Light and Dark
by Spock99
Summary: AU third year,no slash. Harry sneaked off to Hogsmeade where he is kidnapped by Death Eaters. Suddenly Dumbledore needs a new golden boy and he knows exactly how to make himself one. Voldemort has his enemy finally at his mercy. But in a world where nothing is like it seems, everything could happen. dark!Dumbledore,powerful!Neville, grey!Harry, grey!Voldemort,warning: see chapters
1. Chapter 1

"I'm sorry, Mr. Potter, but without the permission of your guardians you are not allowed to go to Hogsmeade." Professor McGonagall patted Harry on the shoulder and turned to leave.

Harry ran after her to stop her once again. "I know, but maybe you could sign the permission slip, Professor? You are my Head of House, and I thought that would be..."

"No, Mr. Potter, I am not the one to decide on this matter. Your legal guardians have to agree, otherwise, you stay here inside the castle grounds. I' sorry, Mr. Potter."  
With those words and a final stern look Professor McGonagall strode towards the main doors and disappeared into the castle.

Harry sighed and waved his friends goodbye. Ron and Hermione gave him a small smile and went to Hogsmeade behind the other students. Harry started walking into the entrance hall and up the stairs to the Gryffindor tower. When he passed a narrow staircase leading to one of the smaller towers, a two-voiced call reached him.

"Harry!" It was the Weasley twins standing a few steps up the small stairs grinning mischievously down at him.

"Hi, guys. What are you two doing here? Why are you not in Hogsmeade, already?" Harry asked and ascended the stairs himself.

"We thought..."

"...since you aren't allowed out of Hogwarts..."

"It might be a good idea to show you something."

Fred, who had spoken the last part of the sentence patted Harry on the shoulder and grinned even wider.

"That's really nice of you, but I would rather you get me some sweets from Honeydunks or anything like that."

Both twins shared a knowing look and George grabbed Harry's hand while Fred shoved a piece of parchment into it.

"That, Harry...

"Is the origin of our...

"unbelievable great success."

Harry looked doubtfully at the two redheads and asked: "Really, you two became the greatest pranksters Hogwarts has ever seen just because of a stupid piece of parchment?"  
He tried giving it back to George, not wanting to talk to them anymore.

Fred snorted and looked at his brother:" He doesn't appreciate a gift when he receives one, does he? I think he should at least wait until he sees what this 'stupid piece of Parchment' is capable of."

George nodded seriously and looked at Harry. The younger Gryffindor rolled his eyes and was about to protest as Fred shoved the parchment back into his hand.

"Open it, Harry!" George told him and with a deep sigh Harry folded the parchment open and looked at the absolutely blank page.

"Guys, it is really nice of you that you try to cheer me up but I don't see the point in this." He looked up from the parchment and glared at the other two. He was a bit annoyed. If he couldn't go to the village with his friends, he just wanted to read, maybe visit Hagrid or just be alone. The twins were entertaining, but at the moment the clue was hidden quite carefully.

Fred tapped his wand at the parchment and said:"I solemnly swear I'm up to no good."  
Then he grinned at Harry and motioned for him to look at the parchment.

When Harry looked down, he saw redish-brown ink spreading over the page and forming small footsteps and a maze plus small letters. Surprisingly the letters inscripted the small footsteps which moved around. Puzzled he looked up at the twins. Both were grinning at him.

"What is that?" Harry asked.

"That is..."

"The Maurauders' Map, Harry..."

"It shows everyone..."

"And everything inside...

"And outside of Hogwarts..."

"Within the school grounds..."

"At any time."

"There are we and that..."

"Is Dumbledore..."

"Pacing in his office..."

"as always."

Fred and George both pointed at a small gap somewhere on the map.  
"That is a secret passage..."

"There are lots of them..."

"But this one leads..."

"directly into the basement..."

"of Honeydukes."

Harry stared in disbelief at the map and then back at the twins. Did they just tell him a way to go to Hogsmeade with his friends without being seen at all?

"Are you sure?" He asked still gaping at the two Weasleys.

"Absolutely sure, Harry" Fred answered.

"We often used it ourselves..."

"Where do you think the sweets at the common room Parties came from?" They told him with a sheepish twinkle in their eyes.

"We thought you could find a use for it..."

"And since you've got a... Invisibility cloak..."

"You have a chance to enjoy the weekends with Ronnie and Hermione."

A huge smile spread on Harry's face, and he once again looked at the Map.

"Wow, guys, that's amazing! Thank you so much!" Harry grinned at them and asked:  
"How do I make the ink disappear again?"

George tapped his wand at the middle of the page and said: "Mischief managed."  
The ink was quickly absorbed into the parchment and left nothing to see but the blank page. Harry gaped at the parchment in his hands and sheer joy flooded through his body. He could go out and be with Ron and Hermione. Spending time at the three broomsticks and Zonko's like every other Hogwarts student.

The twins laughed at his grinning expression and patted him on both shoulders before they turned and left the staircase.

"Use it wise, Harry. That's our secret to success. Have fun!" With that, they both were gone and Harry stood alone with the secret parchment on the small staircase. Just for a moment all the ideas of what to do in Hogsmeade rushed through his mind then he tucked the map safely into his robes and sprinted off to get his invisibility cloak from the dorm.

Just minutes later Harry stood in front of a sculpture of a really ugly whitch. Exactly there where the twins had told him where the secret passage was.  
Panting heavily he opened the map and tipped his wand at it. Then he murmured:"I solemnly swear I'm up to no good." Instantly the brown ink spread over the pages and showed him Hogwarts and her inhabitants.

Relieved he noticed that there wasn't either Filch nor Mrs. Norris around. Nobody else was near his position due to the fact that most of the students and teachers were in Hogsmeade.

Harry aimed his wand at the sculpture and waited. Actually he didn't know how to open the passage. Probingly he tapped his wand at her arm and jumped back as the stone figure turned and revealed a narrow staircase leading down into a dark tunnel.

Harry took a deep breath and climbed down the stairs. When he arrived at the bottom, he heard stone scratching against stone. He looked back and saw the entrance was closed again.

He nodded and began walking down the passage. While he went, torches lit up on both sides of the corridor. Checking the map again Harry found himself at the end of the corridor where another stairscase lead up to a trap door.  
Hastily he tipped his wand at the page and said:"Mischief managed." Then he tucked it securely into his pocket and threw the invisibility cloak over himself.

The trap door creaked as Harry pushed against it. When he was sure the room above was empty he pushed the door open and climbed through.

Indeed, the twins were right! Harry stood in a basement filled with sweets and colourful wrappings. 'That has to be Honeydukes!' He thought and grinned from one ear to the other.

Quickly he ascended the stairs leading to the salesroom and slipped through the door.  
What he saw there bested even his boldest dreams. There were different types of sweets everywhere. Burty Bot's Beans, chocolate frogs in all sizes and sugar quills...and...and everything he could imagine. The store was packed with Hogwarts students who gathered as much of the treats as possible. Undiscovered Harry grabbed a few chocolate frogs and left the store, chewing happily on one of them.

It didn't take him long to find Ron and Hermione. They were heading up to the shrieking shack and Harry followed them quietly. Soon they arrived, and Harry heard Hermione tell Ron everything he had read about the old building.

"It is the most haunted place in the country, Ron! There are many legends why there have always been scary noises and howling at night and noone tried to get in there because the people feared what was inside. Stupid if you ask me – why should nobody look in there all over the years, there has been nothing for years now. What do you think?"

"uhuu" Ron answered not really listening to his friend. He was busy getting a lollipop out of its wrapping paper. He sat on a snowy stone and struggled with the sticky paper.

"Oh, Ronald. Why do you have to eat always?" She slumped down next to him and stared at him in disbelief when he finally succeeded, stuffed the lollipop into his mouth and grinned at her.

"Imagine how Harry would dug into his chocolate frogs if he were here, 'Mione!" He offered her some sugar quills from his pocket.

"Oh, Ron..." Hermione sighed and took one of the quills. "You're right. Harry wouldn't stop before he had bought all of those things at Honesdukes. We should bring some..."

She was interrupted by a cheer from the near hill: "Granger, Weasly! Nice to see you here, where is Potter? Oh yeah, he isn't allowed to come here. Poor Potter." Malfoy laughed, and Crabbe threw a snowball at the two. It hit Hermione's head. Ron jumped up and strode towards the Slytherin boys.

"Get lost, Malfoy! No one wants you and your apes here!" the redhead yelled and with a glare at each of them he stalked back to Hermione who had the snow out of her hair by now.

"Ohh are the two of you having fun together?" Malfoy teased, and Goyle threw another snowball in their direction. It didn't even come close to it's target, though.  
"What would little Potter say if he knew that? Would he be s..."

A big snowball hit Malfoy directly in the face so he couldn't finish his sentence. Shortly after that Goyles trousers were yanked down from an invisible force and Crabbe was shoved backwards and landed in the snow.

"What is tha?" Malfoy yelled and spun around to see the attacker. Another snowball hit him in the face and he stared in shock at the two Gryffindors who haven't moved. When Goyle was dragged through a heap of snow by his feet, Malfoy turned and fleed down the path to the village.

"My father will hear about this!" he shouted and struggled to not slip on the snowy ground as he ran. Crabbe followed suit just a few seconds after and Goyle pulled up his trousers as soon as he could. Then he crawled a few meters before jumping to his fat feet and stumbling after his friends.

A snowball landed on Ron's shoulder and a second one on Hermione's arm.  
"Harry!" Hermione called laughing. Ron laughed too as he saw his best friend appear directly in front of them with a huge grin on his face.

"Hey, guys. Problems with Malfoy? One time you two are out alone..."He didn't finish the sentence because suddenly the sky turned dark. Darker than on a usual winter afternoon.  
Harry looked up at the sky and his grin dropped from his face. He stood closer to Ron and Hermione who were both standing now, wands in hand. There were black pillars of dust falling down towards the ground. For a brief moment, Harry thought of Dementors but he didn't feel the hopelessness radiating off the creatures.

It was completely silent. The trio changed puzzled looks and looked around. But there was nothing to be seen. The black pillars were gone.

"Maybe we should go back to school. It gets late, and you shouldn't be out here at all, Harry." Hermione suggested, and both boys nodded in agreement. The three started walking down the path when Ron all of a sudden slumped forward and landed on the ground, hard.

"Ron!" Harry yelled and dropped beside his friend. The redhead didn't move, and Harry saw his friend had been stunned from behind. He spun around just in time to see black figures steppig out from under the trees. Hermione already aimed her wand at the woman coming towards her. She wore a black dress, and her hair was a great mess. But that wasn't what scared the girl. What scared her was the insane look in the woman's eyes and her matching grin as she stepped forward and aimed her wand at the two Gryffindors.

A tall man with silvery blond hair flowing down his broad shoulders stepped out from under the trees and advanced them with firm steps. He fixed his steel-grey eyes on Harry and gave a tiny smile.

"It is a pleasure to meet you here, Mr. Potter." He said in a dangerously low voice and bowed mockingly.

 **TBC**


	2. Light and Dark 2 - enemy territory

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the Harry Potter universe and I get no money for writing this story.

 **Warnings for this chapter:** cruciatus curse (no drastic descriptions)

The idea for this story has been ghosting through my mind for some time now and I decided to write it down. Let's see how this will develop...

Have fun reading and leave a review to let me know what you think.

* * *

 _A tall man with silvery blond hair flowing down his broad shoulders stepped out from under the trees and advanced on them with firm steps. He fixed his steel-grey eyes on Harry and gave a tiny smile._

 _"It is a pleasure to meet you here, Mr. Potter." He said in a dangerously low voice and bowed mockingly._

* * *

Harry promptly recognized the man who spoke. The resemblance between the father and son was striking. The younger Malfoy clearly inherited the hair and the steel-grey eyes from his father. Draco's eyes were the same color, but Malfoy senior had a hardness in them which Harry knew solely from Snape.

Those eyes looked not very kind. A stab of fear rushed through Harry as a smile appeared on the stern face. Malfoy Senior grinned broadly at the two children in front of him.

"He will be delighted when he receives the present we bring him." The scary woman shrieked. Next, she aimed her wand at Hermione and without an incantation heard, Hermione's wand flew out of her hand. Hermione gasped in surprise as her wand was swiped out of her hand seemingly without effort.

The force of the disarming spell made Hermione stumble backward a few steps. Harry saw that and yelled: "Stupefy!" A glowing spark flew at the woman, but she blocked the curse easily and reflected it back where it hit Hermione square in the chest. The girl instantly fell, and Harry tried grabbing her arm to lighten her fall. The dead weight of his friend hauled him down as well and he landed heavily next to Ron and Hermione. Promptly, Harry felt his fear rising inside him fully. Those people had stunned his friends and would no doubt kill them all without hesitation.

"What do you want?" Harry asked. His voice was shaking from fear and his gaze darted back and forth between Ron and Hermione and the two adults in front of him.

Malfoy senior smiled at him and said: "It is you that we want, Potter. It is time the Dark Lord gets his revenge."

"But Voldemort is gone!" Harry tried and stood from the ground. He brushed the snow from his trousers as the cold seeped through the fabric. He could not tell if he shivered from the cold or Malfoy's nasty smile.

"Is he? You really think your intervention two years ago killed the greatest wizard of all time, made him disappear again?" Malfoy looked at Harry in disgust.  
"How stupid are you, boy? The Dark Lord would never take over a body as weak as Quirrel's without any backup plan. He has gained strength since you 'beat' him in your first year."

Harry's jaw dropped. That couldn't be possible. Dumbledore had told him, that Voldemort was too weak to come back after he didn't get the philosopher's stone and lost Quirrel as his body. How could that be even possible? Dumbledore had told him not to worry. That the events of the chamber of secrets were an unlucky mishap. There was nothing to be afraid of and that Harry will be protected too well for Voldemort to get him again. Yeah, right Harry suddenly thought about his trip to Hogsmeade. Perhaps that had not been really clever?

Suddenly mighty hands dropped on Harry's shoulders and made his knees buckle under the force. Harry yelped in surprise and fear and tried to see who held him but couldn't see his captor. He had been lost in his thoughts and hadn't noticed the huge man come up behind him. The boy tried to get away but the hands held onto him in a death grip. He wasn't capable of turning around. The young Gryffindor tried struggling free from the man but the hands only squeezed his shoulders tightly and a cry of pain escaped Harry's lips.

"Oh, Avery, don't crush our fragile parcel. The Dark Lord won't be delighted if we deliver him the boy with fractured bones." Malfoy told the man gripping Harry. The grip loosened a bit, but it still hurt. Harry gulped at those words. So they were indeed taking him away. All of a sudden he felt the seriousness of the situation crush down on him. He tried to struggle free once again and glared daggers at Malfoy.

"Let me go! Malfoy, you're insane! Voldemort is gone!" Harry shouted desperately and tried to break free from Avery. Those unyielding hands on his shoulders didn't allow that, though.

"Oh, no, Potter I am absolutely fine. Bellatrix is the one you should fear in this regard." He smiled at the woman knowingly. Then he looked at Ron and Hermione both stunned and lying on the ground.

"Time to get going. Wake the mudblood!" he commanded and Bellatrix hurried forward, grabbed Hermione by the hair and whispered: "Enervate!" Hermione stirred and opened her eyes only to look straight into the insane eyes of Bellatrix.

Hermione tried to use her hands to push the woman away but a quick spell bound her arms to her sides. Hermione whimpered in fear and desperation but that had no effect on the crazy woman. The girl tried to get away from her but Bella held her back.

"Look at your friend, the Boy-Who-Lived!"

Avery hauled Harry over to where Malfoy stood. As the boy caught sight of Hermione in the claws of the woman, he struggled even more and shouted: "Hermione!"

"Be the hell quiet, boy!" Avery snarled and placed one of his massive hands over Harry's quick enough, though. Harry dug his teeth into the fleshy hand before it could get to its destination.

"Oww!" Avery howled. Quick as a flash he turned Harry around and backhanded the boy so hard that he fell to the ground.

"Harry!" Hermione shrieked but was quickly quieted by a silencing spell from Malfoy.

Harry hit the ground hard. Avery had let him go while striking him. The rim of Harry's vision darkened, and he blinked fast to stay conscious. The pain on the whole right side of his head shot through his mind and he groaned. He felt a hand clutch the collar of his jacket and then he was hauled back to his feet. Harry's head lolled to his front, he was still fighting for consciousness.

"Don't do that again!" Avery growled in his ear and shock Harry a bit.

"You, girl! Tell Dumbledore what happened. Tell him his golden boy is gone. Tell him he lost!" With that Malfoy turned on his heel and apparated with a crack.

The next moment Bellatrix did the same. Avery seized Harry's collar tighter and seized a handful of hair, then he apparated and both were gone.

The last thing Harry saw was Hermione sitting on the ground next to Ron. She was crying.

* * *

Before Harry could consider anything else his feet hit the ground again. He found himself in a grand room with black parquet and no windows. An enormous, black table stood in the middle of the room and on the far side there was a man sitting on a chair. He was pale like parchment, his eyes and nose were only slits in his face. The black robes stressed the pale color of his skin even more which let the red eyes stand out terribly.

Then Harry's world was pain. He clutched his hands at his forehead and closed his eyes. The pain was nearly unbearable. He couldn't think about anything else. Even the fear he had felt seconds ago was gone. All existing was the excruciating pain in his scar. He cried out in pain while his knees gave away under him. Avery held him upright by his hair and upper arm so Harry hung in the rough grip like a doll.

After a while, the pain faded a bit, and Harry could open his eyes again. Avery jerked him towards Voldemort and forced him to the floor before he sank to his knees like Malfoy and Bellatrix next to him.

"We bring you the boy, My Lord." Malfoy said and waited for Voldemort's response.

"Harry Potter." Voldemort's voice was quiet and dangerous. He tasted the name like a delicious food he hadn't had for a long time. The Dark Lord stared at the four people in front of him and got up from his throne.

Harry was on hands and knees trying to get the pain under control but it was extremely difficult. A shiver ran down his back as Voldemort spoke. The man managed to stress his name in a manner Harry didn't want to hear ever again. Cold, cruel and somehow lovingly at the same time.

The other three in the room were silent. If Harry hadn't felt Avery's hand still resting warningly at his neck, he would have thought they were gone. The room was nearly silent except the quiet rustling of Voldemort's robes brushing against the floorboards as he walked.

The Dark Lord strode down to his servants and the boy who lived slowly. This was the moment he wanted to savor forever. The Boy-Who-Lived finally at his mercy. Dumbledore's greatest weapon at his feet. Death in the disguise of a boy. Fate was a nasty, unfair thing...

Suddenly Harry felt cold fingers gripping his jaw and forcing his head up. Harry struggled, but Voldemort was stronger and directed his head up until he met those crimson-red eyes.

The moment their eyes locked, the pain in Harry's scar flared up again and he cried out in pain once more. But soon after, the torture ended and the pain faded completely. The pressure on his jaw increased abruptly. He opened his eyes again, staring directly at Voldemort, who smiled at him in satisfaction.

"Tsk, tsk, tsk, Harry. You have got no manners. We will adjust that soon, believe me." He let Harry's head go and stood up straight again. "I am pleased to see you here finally, Harry. It's been a long time." Voldemort said pensively.

Then he walked over to Malfoy who knelt a few feet away, head bowed. Voldemort traced a slender pale finger over the man's exposed neck which made the blond shiver slightly.

"Legilimens." Voldemort whispered and pushed into Lucius' mind. There was resistance but Malfoy lowered his shields as soon as he felt his Lord's presence. The Malfoy patriarch showed his memories willingly and fully aware of his Lord's presence in his mind.

 _Malfoy, Bella, and Avery landed right behind the tree line. Potter and his friends were laughing and all alone. When the teens turned to leave, Malfoy shot a stunning hex at the redhead._

 _"Let me go! Malfoy you're insane! Voldemort is gone!"_

 _Avery dragged the boy forward. Potter shouted something and Avery tried to cover his mouth with his hand. But Potter bit down on it and Avery howled in pain. Then he spun the boy around and struck him across the cheek. The boy landed on the ground and seemed to fight for consciousness._

 _Malfoy knelt down in front of his master._

The Dark Lord withdrew from Lucius' mind and placed a cold hand on his shoulder. The man did not dare to move.

"You did well, Lucius." Voldemort said and moved in front of his servant, keeping his hand on Malfoy's shoulder. Then he let his finger ghost along Lucius' jawline and stopped under his chin where he pushed slightly to allow the blonde to look up.

Lucius swallowed with difficulty and lifted his head: "Thank you, My Lord." he said, his voice a bit hoarse. He looked up when Voldemort pushed more under his chin. He met the eyes of his master and was directly captured with the red stare.

"You proved yourself once again, Lucius. You will be rewarded. Stand!" Voldemort spoke and dropped his hand from Lucius' jaw.

The blonde aristocrat hastily complied and bowed deeply: "Thank you, My Lord."

Harry had just witnessed how Draco's father, the arrogant blonde, behaved in front of Voldemort. There had been nothing from the man's typical pride, just admiration, and obedience. That was disgusting. Harry looked around and saw Voldemort striding towards Bellatrix. The woman was wiggling on her knees and her breathing was quick. Harry wondered what he would see from her. Maybe when he occupied his mind otherwise the cold fear would not be so terrible?

When Voldemort wanted to display the power he had over those people then Harry could watch as well. It distracted him from the thoughts swirling through his head. What did Voldemort mean with ' We will adjust that soon?' The picture of Hermione sitting in the snow crying and Ron unconscious next to her. 'Dumbledore would rescue me, won't he? What if he doesn't?' Harry abandoned this line of thought and paid attention to Bellatrix and Voldemort.

The Dark Lord walked over to Bellatrix Lestrange, slowly. She wasn't able to kneel at his feet and not move as Lucius did. Like he preferred. This woman has craved for his attention since the first day. As soon as he stopped in front of her, she threw herself forward and kissed the hem of his robe.

"My Lord." she whispered. Voldemort didn't allow her to look up, yet. He loved her submissive, unconditional loyalty and enjoyed watching her at his feet. Although she tended to exaggerate her submission, he was somehow fascinated by it. Voldemort smiled to himself because no one else could see it. Then he extended his hand and placed it lightly on the side of her head. Instantly she leaned into the touch like a cat and Voldemort let her.

"As Always, Bella, your service was flawless. You'll find a team of my Death Eaters outside the doors. Take them and prove to the old fool how long Lord Voldemort's arm is.

"Yes, My Lord, I am yours to command." Bellatrix tried hard not to moan when the Dark Lord's hand made contact with her head. His touches were raw and meant only for those who pleased him, who followed his directions and proved themselves worthy. And Bellatrix Lestrange certainly was worthy, she knew it.

"The Village will do, I think." Voldemort said deep in thought. Then he withdrew his hand again and waved for her to stand. She complied instantly and stood in front of him, head respectfully bowed as Lucius did at the moment.

Harry looked in disgust at Bellatrix and wanted to vomit. The young Gryffindor was wondering what Voldemort wanted to do. He hadn't allowed his servants to move before he told them to, but he seemed to be oblivious to Harry sitting on the floor and watching. That was why Harry decided to challenge his boundaries.

Avery's hand had slipped from his shoulder as soon as Voldemort began to talk. Silently Harry got to his feet and straightened up slowly. Lucius Malfoy chanced a glance to him and his eyes got wide. Then he lowered his head again to not attract the wrath of his master.

Harry stood there and still, Voldemort hadn't done anything to hinder him. He looked at Bellatrix who still fixed the floor. Giving in to his fear, Harry started sprinting towards the doors. Or better he tried to. As soon as he made a step, he fell to the ground. His left foot was sticking to the floor and wouldn't move. With a loud 'thumb' Harry hit the floor lengthwise. He groaned as his head connected ruggedly with the ground.

"Harry, Harry, Harry. Your manners have to improve. You can't escape me, therefore do not try to. It will save you a lot of pain." Voldemort's voice was cool as always but there could be heard something like a chuckling in it.

Harry looked up and found his body except his head and arms were stuck to the floorboards now. He now was forced to look at Voldemort from his lying position on the floor. Sitting or standing would have been a lot less embarrassing. Voldemort hadn't even turned around. He still stood in front of Bellatrix. Frustration mixed with Harry's fear and he felt his breathing quicken as Voldemort came over and stopped in front of Avery.

Before Harry could think about something else, he heard Voldemort whisper: "Crucio!"  
And then Avery was writhing on the floor, thrashing around and screaming. The massive man shrieked and screamed like a wounded animal. Voldemort lifted the curse after a few seconds and looked at Harry. The shock was all too evident on Harry's face. His features displayed utter horror.

"That, Harry, happens to people who do not follow my orders or lay their hands on something that is mine. Keep that in mind, my boy!"

Harry let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding. And watched in horror as Voldemort stepped next to Avery's head.

The man on the ground was panting heavily, and his eyes were closed. He lay there completely limp and he didn't move. Voldemort tsked and placed his bare foot on Avery's left cheek to shift his head. When Avery's face looked towards Voldemort he ordered:  
"Look at me!" Avery complied promptly and looked up at his master. Harry saw tears leaking out of Avery's eyes. There was nothing but pure agony in the hazel orbs.

"I am sorry, My Lord! Please have mercy!" the pleading tone in his voice didn't fit for a man of his height and body. A man like Avery shouldn't grovel at someone's feet. It looked somehow wrong.

Avery didn't dare to move and waited for the Dark Lord's response. Hoping to escape further punishment. The icy voice of his master reached his ears, and Avery instantly knew what would follow.

"I said:' Do not harm the boy!'. Striking him nearly unconscious is not the definition of no harm, Avery. Crucio!" Voldemort aimed his wand back at the man to his feet and watched him thrashing around and screaming anew.

Finally, after five long minutes, he lifted the curse and left Avery shaking and panting on the floor. The screaming had died down towards the end. Not because the curse lacked power but because Avery's voice was gone, he had screamed and shrieked himself hoarse.

"Now, that all our conversations succeeded, you three are free to go. Wait until I summon you again. Harry and I have much to discuss." Voldemort waved his hand dismissively and Bellatrix and Lucius bowed, grabbed Avery and dragged him out of the room.

The massive oak doors closed, and Harry was alone with Voldemort. The man walked to Harry and aimed his wand at the young Gryffindor.

"Now, my boy, we will discuss your respectless behavior."

 **TBC...**


	3. Light and Dark 3 - insights

**A/N**

 **Long time no update... anyway enjoy reading and take the time for a review.**

* * *

They were standing in his office. Granger, Weasley, Minerva and of course Snape. All were staring at him waiting for a reaction. Instead of revealing anything Albus Dumbledore turned around and stared blankly at the wall next to his bookshelf. Trying to get his anger under control tough, the thoughts were racing in his mind, Dumbledore's magic lashed out and the wave of power stroke the people in the office. He heard them gasping and stumbling backward, but he ignored them.

The boy was gone. Voldemort got him. All of his plans were destroyed now. Who should be sent against the Dark Lord, now that Potter was gone, probably tortured or killed right at this moment? The boy had been on exactly the way Dumbledore wanted him to be. He had accepted his fate of having to fight Voldemort, had been eager to revenge the death of his parents, and now? Now Dumbledore could forget the brat. He was too young, to easy to manipulate. As soon as he came in contact with Voldemort there was no way out. It was sure this monster would kill Dumbledore's most protected weapon, the legendary Boy-Who-Lived. The whole wizarding world was convinced that Potter was their savior. And so was Voldemort. The monster knew nothing except his nemesis, the infant who defeated him. Nearly. The Gryffindor was nothing as soon as he met Tom Riddle.

The boy was unprepared for a battle, and he definitely had no chance of fighting in the middle of Death Eaters and Voldemort himself. Stupid brat. How dare he sneak out to Hogsmeade. There was a reason why he hadn't had a signed permission slip from his uncle. That Dobby showed up at Privet Drive just before had a chance to tackle the issue himself was just an incredibly lucky side effect. With his silly boyish, potter-ish behavior Harry had managed to get himself kidnapped and certainly killed.

Dumbledore closed his eyes and hid his anger and disappointment behind strong Occlumency shields. Then he schooled his features in a perfect mask of despairing and shock. Those people in his office had to believe he was shattered to his bones because of the boy's capture. But Dumbledore wasn't. Actually, he was far away from it. In the back of his mind, he already weighed up to weather the Longbottom boy would be of use in this matter or not. Everyone was replaceable, even the golden boy. Someone other had to take his place. But for the times being, the headmaster had to establish a feeling of hopelessness among the light side. Then he could begin restoring their faith into another hero. They would follow the newly risen hero like sheep, bleating and without thinking.

Slowly Albus Dumbledore turned around and faced his employees and the two students. The Granger girl was still crying. Really, was she unable to control herself?

"This..." Dumbledore made a dramatic break to clear his throat. "...Is a dark day and a great shock for everyone." seemingly collecting his thoughts, Dumbledore stopped again and took a deep breath.

"We will immediately begin looking for Harry. Minerva, let the order know their presence is needed in half an hour at the burrow." The Gryffindor Head of House nodded and after a reassuring pat on Granger's shoulder, she left the room to follow the Headmasters order.

Dumbledore then turned to the two students. After all, they were utterly shocked, Potter was their friend. Had been their friend. Dumbledore corrected himself in his thoughts. The boy was lost. The search will be without result. Even if not, how could the boy still be sane after meeting Voldemort?

"Ms. Granger, Mr. Weasley... I know you are really shocked and fear for Harry. But please try coming to terms with the possibility that our beloved Mr. Potter might not be the same person...if he comes back to us." The old wizard stressed the 'if' in his sentence and he hadn't to wait for the reaction long. Understanding quicker than the redhead, Granger broke down in tears and leaned against her friend for comfort. Weasley looked a bit puzzled but then understanding flashed over his face. Unconsciously he placed an arm around the sobbing girl and opened his mouth to say something. 'Quick as ever' Dumbledore thought. Then the boy managed to choke out the words which were obvious to everyone except him.

"Professor, do you mean that Harry... Maybe won't come back because...You-Know-Who..."  
He trailed off and tears streamed down his cheeks as Dumbledore nodded slowly. Yes, that was hard for the two, as it would be for the whole school. But they will all recover. Out of sight, out of mind. No one remembers the fallen for long. Not in a war like this where the deaths were uncountable.

Sighing, Dumbledore directed the two Gryffindors out of his office and told them to go to the common room. That way the whole school would know what happened at dinner and Dumbledore just had to tell them the rumors were right. That a team of highly skilled witches and wizards searched for the boy and that, of course, he would do everything in his powers to find the precious Gryffindor. That should soothe them enough to drop any attempts of rebellion or acts of despair imaginable.

Albus Dumbledore grinned at the thought of how tame and trustful the Hogwarts staff and students were. Stupidly, Severus Snape was not. Now approached the most challenging part in his act. Convincing the Potions Master of his act.

As soon as the Headmaster was alone with his spy he turned to face his employee and stepped right into the man's personal space. Knowing how much Snape hated to be cornered and too near another person. Snape tried not showing his uneasiness and held Dumbledores gaze. That sharp gaze was only a mirror of the sharp mind hiding behind them. But Dumbledore knew how to suppress this quick-thinking thing.

"Why haven't you told me, Severus, that Voldemort gained his strength again? And, pray tell me, why did you not directly inform me of his amazingly rapid recovery?" The ancient wizard sneered and made one small but aggressive step nearer to the black-haired man in front of him.

Eventually, the Potions Master made a step back to get some distance between them again and answered evenly: "I informed you about the burning of the Dark Mark as soon as I felt it, Headmaster. Until now I haven't been summoned. As it seems, the Dark Lord didn't wish me to know." Retreating a step further the younger man folded his arms in front of his chest. An obvious attempt to distance himself from the headmaster.

"Is – that - so?" Dumbledore's voice got a little bit louder with every word. "And why was he uninclined to include you into his plans? Did you not prove yourself during the previous war? Weren't you one of his inner circle?" Slowly Dumbledore felt his anger rise again and his magic pulsed through his body, waiting to be released.

"I did, Headmaster. But none of the others seemed to know of the Dark Lord's return." Snape stated coolly. Every inch the hard and cold, cunning Slytherin he was. Every slight bit of the Potions Master was the hardened Death Eater scum everyone thought of him behind his back.

"As soon as I get summoned, I will report to you, Headmaster." The dungeon bat said.

Dumbledore's anger got bigger than his composure in the end and he turned to his spy, roaring: " What do you think, your cuddling with Voldemort is worth now? Do you indeed think he will involve you in any of his plans when he didn't even inform you that he was back, Severus!?" The name was hissed through gritted teeth, disappointment and anger clearly obvious in the old wizard's features.

The grey-haired wizard saw his spy flinch ever so slightly and grinned inwardly. The man was still under his control. But then the younger man started speaking again.

"I suggest, Headmaster, it would be good for everyone to accommodate with today's events and delay the speaking to another hour." With that, Snape nodded curtly at the headmaster and turned to leave the office.

"Don't you dare to leave now, Severus!" How the headmaster loathed it when the boy gave him attitude. He certainly knew better than irritate his mentor in such a situation. Without thinking, Dumbledore let go from the ever-rising magic and sent a cutting hex towards the other man.

Snape, not expecting an attack, whipped out his wand but wasn't quick enough to block the curse. A deep gash opened on his cheek and the blood flooded out of it immediately. Shocked more by the headmaster's act than the pain he stared in disbelief at the ever twinkling man. But right now, the old wizard looked not at all like the nice grandfather Severus knew. The man suddenly radiated all of the power he had, which made Severus shiver slightly. Then he let his wand disappear in his sleeve again.

Suddenly the certainty he had developed around the man was gone. The headmaster of Hogwarts could destroy his life in the split of a second if he wanted. Slowly Severus lowered his gaze, but not his head, as he was once more reminded of the fact, that Dumbledore had another side as well. All in all, between the Dark Lord and the headmaster, was not as much difference as the wizarding world thought.

Dumbledore stepped closer to the man in front of him.  
"Do you need a reminder of what you owe me, boy?" He glared at the young Professor, disgust dripping from his words.

"No, Sir." Snape answered, keeping his eyes fixed on Dumbledore's chest. He decided this was a meeting he wanted to end soon.

"That is good, my boy." Dumbledore extended his hand and stroked the tip of his index finger over the gash on Snape's cheek. When he saw the man recoil from his touch, he grinned. He nevertheless possessed enough power over the Slytherin Head of House. In this case, he had succeeded in training the boy to his liking. Too bad that he hadn't been capable to conclude Harry's _education_.

"Now go and clean up! You look terrible, my boy." Dumbledore lowered his bloody finger and dropped his hand. He softened his gaze to bestow Snape the affection the man craved so much for since he had begged Dumbledore to save Lily's life so many years ago.

Snape looked up and nodded. Then he turned once again and left the office. But just before he could close the door, he heard the quiet voice of the headmaster: "Severus, remember: no word to anyone. And get me information about Voldemort!"

Knowing no answer was required Severus shut the door and fled to his quarters where walked straight into his bathroom to mend the wound in his face. He was used to pain. Even when receiving it from the hands of Dumbledore, which was a rarely seen event these days. But it was scarcely better than what Potter might have endured by now if he was even alive...

* * *

 _A young Severus Snape stood at the corner of a house in Hogsmeade, waiting for the Headmaster of Hogwarts._

 _"I didn't expect you to come to me, my boy. What do you want?" Dumbledore's voice sounded through the night before he stepped close enough towards Severus that the young man could see him._

 _"The prophecy... Lily... Please, Dumbledore, save her! The Dark Lord wants to kill the boy."_  
 _Severus started without any introduction. He had informed his master about the prophecy and Voldemort at once targeted the Potters. Now Severus feared for Lily's life._

 _"Oh, my boy and what do you think I could do? Who are you to demand such a thing of me? Who am I to help a Death Eater?" Dumbledore spat the last two words in_ Severus _face and the young man flinched. He had been foolish enough to join the Dark Lord but he did care for Lily. The mark on his forearm didn't alter that._

 _"Please Professor Dumbledore! I'll do anything to protect her, place her under the_ fidelius _charm if it helps, but save her!" Severus practically begged the headmaster to do something but the old man just smiled at him knowingly._

 _"Lily Potter has a son and a husband, Snape. Don't you care about them at all?"_

 _Severus gritted his teeth and hissed through them: "By Merlin's beard, protect them too, but please do something! The Dark Lord plans to attack them soon."_

 _"And what, my boy, do I get in exchange?" Dumbledore stared at his former student with an unyielding gaze, seeing the thoughts reel in the juvenile mind._

 _"Anything." The dark boy breathed. Then he looked up and met the blue eyes with his black ones._

 _"Then, Mr. Snape, I demand your loyalty. I need a spy in Voldemort's ranks and you are a Death Eater on the way to the inner circle. Repay my efforts!"_

 _Severus gulped down his fear and doubts. Lily was worth it._

 _"I accept your terms. Will you help them?"_

 _Dumbledore's smile grew wider, and he nodded. Them he turned around and apparated leaving the young Death Eater alone._

* * *

Severus stared into the mirror, lost in thoughts.

Dumbledore never missed an opportunity to remind his spy of the favor he did. Lily hadn't been saved, but Dumbledore had brought Severus out of Azkaban. The young man had been sent there without receiving a trail because of being a follower of the Dark Lord.

As it seemed, Dumbledore had guessed that Lord Voldemort would rise again sometime in the future. Therefore, he needed a spy. And why recruit a new one when having a respected Death Eater in Azkaban who had to repay his efforts. Even if they had been without success.

Severus had been incredibly relieved when the door to his cell had opened after two weeks of imprisonment. Dumbledore had helped him out of this hole, had rescued him from the dementors. For this Severus had been deeply thankful, but at that time he didn't comprehend how Dumbledore would utilize him for his plans.

Since this day, Dumbledore has threatened to reveal every bit of evidence of Severus being a loyal Death Eater. He promised to send him back to Azkaban as soon as the young Potions Master didn't follow his commands. That was the reason why Snape feared the man as well as he admired him. This was the reason why he accepted Dumbledores outbursts of fury whenever he was targeted. That he endured the occasional pain Dumbledore's wrath brought upon him. The time in Azkaban was something Severus never, never, never wanted to face again.

Dropping the line of thought, he concentrated on the matter at hand. Get presentable for the world and place the shields back in place. Severus hadn't trusted anyone since Lily. At least not fully. Just to be sure he checked his Occlumency walls around his mind a second and a third time.

Sighing he muttered a healing spell and placed a glamour over his cheek as a precaution. That was one of the rules. Never tell or show anyone who Albus Dumbledore could be. Until now the headmaster had managed to hide his calculating, planning and sometimes cruel nature from everyone in the wizarding society.

But how long would he be able to keep his emotions in check now that the golden boy was gone? How could he still the fear that would erupt among the wizarding society as soon as Potter's Death got public?

When Severus was done, he cleaned the few drops of blood from the collar of his shirt. With a last glance in the mirror and checking, his mind walls the Potions Master strode toward the Great Hall.

TBC...

* * *

 **Check out my new story 'Home' if you like**


	4. Light and Dark 4 - revelations

**A/N**

 **after a long time, I will update Light and Dark again. I had a problem to solve with the later chapters of this story.**

 **Enjoy reading and tell me what you think! Reviews are motivation:-)**

* * *

Slowly Harry opened his eyes. Bright sunlight made tears flood his eyes, so he blinked fast to keep the world a bit more in focus. When he tried to wipe them away though he noticed that his hand was trembling violently. Then he became aware of the exhaustion and dull ache in his whole body. He tried to sit up but just managed to push himself up a few inches before he collapsed back onto the pillows. His glasses were pushed onto his nose, the sudden movement startling him. But the world came in perfect focus then and Harry took in his surroundings.

He lay on a small, simple bed. It looked more like one of the infirmary cots than his cozy four-poster in Gryffindor tower. The room was bright from the sun that shone through a high window. Next to the door stood a big wardrobe, beneath the window, Harry could see a desk. Harry didn't come any further in his observations because at this moment his gaze hit the man sitting in a chair by his bed. Voldemort sat there, holding a book. But the man wasn't reading. He was staring at the young Gryffindor with a look of curiosity on his features.

"I am pleased to see you awake again, my boy." When Voldemort finally spoke, his stern, cold voice rang through the room. The sound filling the silence in a very unpleasant way. The very moment Harry heard this voice the memories came crashing down on him. Voldemort standing above him pointing his wand at Harry. Then a red light and ...nothing but pure agony.

Harry shot up and tried to get away from the man sitting next to the bed. As soon as he sat up a wave of dizziness hit him, and he once more fell back into a lying position. A low groan escaped his throat as the residing pain flared to new life. Despite his trembling body and spinning head, Harry scrambled further away from Voldemort until he hit the wall where the bed ended. The stone wall was rough against his back and the cold began seeping into his exhausted body just moments later. Harry's gaze was fixed on the snake-like man in front of him, panic written all over the boy's face.

"Oh, Harry. I thought we had an agreement concerning your behavior. Do you need a reminder already?" Voldemort asked with a sweet voice and fixed Harry with a glare.

Harry fought against the dizziness in his head as he tried to shake his head in denial. There was no doubt what exactly the 'reminder' would be. Anything but the cruciatus! He would do anything to escape the agony. Before Harry could bring himself further into panicking Voldemort spoke again.

"A verbal answer would be appreciated, Harry." There was a stern edge in this statement, which made more than clear that this had not been a politely articulated request but a command to be fulfilled immediately.

Harry panted heavily. His panic rising once more. When he saw Voldemort's features twist into a deeper scowl, the Gryffindor managed to answer. "No..."

The pale face froze, the red eyes blazed with anger at Harry's answer. The room suddenly seemed to narrow. The air felt thicker and Harry tried frantically to figure out what he had done wrong. He swallowed trying to soothe his sore throat. He must have been screaming a lot earlier? "I don't need... a... r-reminder. - Sir!" He added hastily as Voldemort's red eyes bore into his own. Then the young Gryffindor lowered his gaze drawing his shoulders up for some protection. He was cold and scared and – alone.

Although Voldemort hadn't moved an inch since Harry had woken, his presence took in the whole room. Harry felt like suffocating as he tried to breathe properly and even. The very moment Voldemort spoke again, Harry flinched violently and pressed himself further against the wall.

"I am pleased to see that our lesson in respect earlier was successful, my boy. You earned yourself a reward." An evil smile spread across the pale face as Lord Voldemort raised a hand and reached for Harry. The young Gryffindor pressed himself further against the wall to escape the long-fingered hands, but all his struggles were useless. Voldemort was mere inches away from him and there was no escape route in sight.

"Come here, Harry!" The man commanded quietly. This was the same tone the monster had used before throwing the crutiatus at him earlier. Harry definitely didn't look forward to the 'reward'. Whatever it was he didn't want it, never.

"Oh, Harry. Do not destroy your positive impression on me by not complying. It would be a pity..." At these words, the boy shivered and closed his eyes for a moment to gather his courage. Then he slowly scrambled towards the man and sat up on the edge of the bed. He let his trembling legs touch the cold stone floor and hugged his middle for protection.

A heavy silence spread between them. Since Harry stubbornly stared at a spot on the floor, he didn't see Voldemort's satisfied smile. The silence stretched on and Harry began shivering from cold. Why was that room so freezing cold?

After what felt like an eternity to Harry, Voldemort moved and in the next moment cool fingers gently gripped Harry's chin. The young Gryffindor flinched away from the touch but forced himself to stay where he was. That brought a smile on Voldemort's face again. This time Harry saw it. The sight made bile rising in his throat.

"You are a very clever boy, Harry." Harry froze as Voldemort moved his hand a little downward and stroked Harry's throat. His mind screamed at Harry to run but his body was frozen in fear. Voldemort muttering something under his breath. A warm feeling spread across Harry's neck and the pain in his throat disappeared completely. Startled by the sudden kindness, the boy looked up and met Voldemort's gaze. Pure astonishment was written on his young features as he stared at the Dark Lord. They held their eye contact for mere seconds, fearful green meeting fiery but guarded red.

Then the man just pulled back his hand and smiled again. "Remember, Harry: bad behavior will bring punishment, but well-behaved boys will be rewarded."

Harry nodded and looked down again. It was silent once more and Harry had the feeling that Voldemort was waiting for something. The longer the silence continued the more aggravating got the atmosphere. Without thinking properly about it, Harry whispered: "Thank you...Sir."

As soon as those words were out of his mouth the atmosphere in the room relaxed and Harry took a deep breath.

"That is right, my boy. Because of your politeness, I will reward you again. But do not think I am pleased easily." Voldemort reached into his robes and brought out a vial with a portion of a dark orange color. He opened it and fixed Harry with his crimson eyes.

"Drink it, Harry!" With trembling hands, Harry took the vial, he tried to hold it still but spilled a few drops, nevertheless. He looked up scared Voldemort would punish him for this but all he found were red eyes and a small smile.

The wizard reached forward and took the vial back. His pale hand once again came towards Harry and the boy fought hard not to flinch; he wasn't a coward! Voldemort snaked his hand behind Harry's head and gently supported the boy's head.

"Don't worry, my boy. Here..." With that, he held the vial to Harry's lips. After a second the frightened teen allowed the orange liquid to be poured down his throat. It could not get worse than what had happened a few hours ago, could it? Harry's heart pounded hard as he waited for the potion to take effect.

The very moment, the potion reached his stomach Harry felt the trembling lessen and the dull ache fade. Gratefully he rose his gaze and once again whispered: "Thank you, Sir."

That brought a thin smile to Voldemort's face and he nodded.

"Good boy, Harry. Now lie down and sleep for a while!" Harry complied instantly. Not just because Voldemort had said so but also because his eyes were so heavy, and he was tired to no ends. When he lay under the covers and closed his eyes, he felt Voldemort gently push a stray of hair out of his forehead. He managed to not recoil from the touch. But what happened next, Harry could barely understand.

Suddenly Voldemort leaned forward and pressed his thin lips onto Harry's forehead, onto his scar. The young Gryffindor lay perfectly still, too shocked to move and heard the man say:

"Sleep well, my good boy!" Then he was gone, and the door shut with a quiet click.

The thoughts were racing in Harry's mind. How could he be so trusting around the murderer of his parents, his arch enemy? Shame filled the young Gryffindor as he thought about what his friends and Professors would say if they knew. Dumbledore had told him time and time again to not accept any potions from people he did not trust fully. He had told Harry to fight tooth and nail whenever confronted with Voldemort. And now? Now the Boy-Who-Lived was tucked in bed by Lord Voldemort himself!

The man was confusing. One moment he tortured Harry and the next he kissed him? Where was the logic in that? Then, suddenly Harry realized that Voldemort of all people had been the first person to tuck him in and kiss him good night!

Quickly the Gryffindor forbid himself this line of thoughts. That man was the reason Harry had no one to tuck him in, to care for him. If Voldemort hadn't killed Harry's parents, he wouldn't have to stay with the Dursleys!

Harry sighed heavily. What could he do now anyway? He was definitely too tired for an escape attempt.

'As soon as I am better, I will get away from here!' The young Gryffindor swore to himself and surrendered to the heavy tiredness in his body.

* * *

The Great Hall was quiet this morning. The few conversations were whispered, and even the Gryffindor table was almost silent. The evening before, Dumbledore had informed the whole school of the events yesterday. After the declaration, the four house tables were drowned in nervous chatting. Over the night it seemed everyone in Hogwarts had thought about what could happen to the savior of the wizarding world if captured by You-Know-Who's men.

The most horrifying rumors came up. Surprisingly the Gryffindors didn't try to make Harry's disappearance result of a heroic act. They kept silent about the whole incident. For once in the history of Hogwarts, the house of lions was quiet, shaken by the events and concerned for one of their housemates.

Sunday was spent with studying or pretending to study. The Gryffindor common room was unusually quiet, even the Weasley twins didn't pull silly pranks or teased their siblings.

On Monday morning lessons were a tense business, too. The teachers were stricter than normal, and the students tried not to annoy them. Especially the Professors McGonagall, Lupin and Snape were more irritable than usual. The DADA Professor and the Deputy Headmistress made no secret of being concerned and shaken by Harry's capture. Why Snape was upset was a riddle to most of the students.

The whole week Dumbledore told them at dinner they had to concentrate on the lessons and not to worry.

"There will be done everything possible to find and rescue Harry." He assured them on Wednesday evening. Easier said than done. His speech was met with lowered heads, quiet murmurs and an atmosphere of despair. The wizarding world was missing its savior. Some of the students missed a friend, a Quidditch player, a headstrong boy they all liked. Well most of them.

Ron, Hermione, and the other Weasleys knew from their parents the Order of the Phoenix had no clue where to find Harry. That didn't ease the worry about their friend in the slightest. As a result, even Hermione had difficulties following lessons and handing in assignments before the deadline.

Hermione, Ron, and the twins sat in front of the fire in the common room. Most Gryffindors left them alone. The common room was not the same anymore with everyone noticing the empty spot between the closest friends of Harry Potter. It looked as if the black-haired teen was just about to come through the portrait hole and sit down at the vacant seat between his mates. But all of them knew the unconsciously saved seat would not be taken any time soon.

"I can't do this anymore!" Ron said suddenly, staring into the flames with a fierce look on his face. "I can't just sit here while my best friend is tortured by Voldemort. Maybe he... he isn't..."

"Ron!" Hermione interrupted him angrily and punched him on the arm. "Do not even think about that! If Harry was... gone... You-Know-Who would celebrate his victory and the whole wizarding world would know! Before we have no confirmation don't you dare think in such a terrible way!" Then the girl wiped the tears away from her cheeks. She hadn't noticed that she was crying all the time.

Ron, on the other hand, looked angry despite the tirade Hermione had thrown at him.

"It is just... I am scared and I don't want to do nothing, I want to help, Hermione!"

His announcement was met by nods and sighs. They all knew there was nothing they could do but hope.

* * *

The next morning Ron, Hermione, and Neville walked down to the dungeons for potions class. Neither of them was eager to meet Snape. It seemed with every hour Harry was missing the man got angrier and more annoyed.

When they arrived at the classroom door, it was still closed. That was very positive because it meant Snape couldn't deduct points for being late. The three stood there among the others and waited. Hermione tried to re-read her potions text but could not concentrate properly so she closed the book again. The students were quiet this morning. Not even the Slytherins spoke much.

They all jumped as the classroom door was suddenly pushed open hard. It hit the wall and bounced off with a loud bang. Only Snape's outstretched hand prevented the heavy wood to fall closed again.

Snape stood in the frame glaring daggers at them all. "Move!" he commanded and pointed his index finger inside the room. The single word was spat in their direction with so much venom, Ron caught himself feeling his pockets for a bezoar – or his wand. Whatever was in there.

Neville was white as a sheet as he shuffled into the room. Snape was frightening enough when he was not in such a bad mood, but today? Ron and Hermione noticed Neville's uneasiness and quickly decided to do something. Hermione joined Neville at the workstation while Ron paired up with Seamus. Neville needed Hermione's whispered instructions and hints for certain today. His hands were already shaking in fear although the class hadn't even begun. How he was supposed to cut ingredients properly was beyond Hermione.

As soon as the class was inside the room and had their books and parchment on the desks, Snape waved his wand fiercely and instructions appeared on the board behind him.

"Start now! You've got two hours." With that, he turned around and took position behind his desk in the front of the class. There he sat watching them with his unyielding black-eyes stare.

Hastily the students copied the instructions and began to brew a few minutes later. It was perfectly quiet except for the clattering of knives and cauldrons.

Half an hour into the lesson, Snape stood and walked around the room to inspect their work. His movements were curt, fierce and full of strength as if he was fuelled by an unfailing source of energy.

He stopped at Goyle and sneered: "That – is not what the potion is supposed to look at this time in brewing, Mr. Goyle. Start anew!" the dark man walked away after vanishing the mess in Goyle's cauldron completely. The whole class gaped at their Professor. Criticizing Slytherins was new. But if the Gryffindors thought, this lesson wouldn't be as terrible as usual, their hopes were crushed the very next moment.

Snape stopped at Neville's desk right after vanishing Goyle's concoction.

The man wrinkled his nose in disgust as the sour smell of the liquid caught his nostrils.

"Mr. Longbottom, why do you think I wrote down instructions for the potion?" Neville paled and looked at his potion attempt.

"I am sorry, Sir." He mumbled shrinking back from the intimidating man.

"Yes, Mr. Longbottom, you will be in a minute or two when your cauldron explodes." He vanished the yellow-green liquid. Then he turned and barked at Neville: "Again!"

After two long hours, the lesson mercifully ended, and Snape told them to bottle up their samples and leave. Everyone hurried to comply and fled the room. Even the Slytherins seemed not too eager to be longer near their head of house than necessary.

Transfiguration with McGonagall wasn't really fun either. They had to take notes from the book and they start a three-foot essay about the difficulties of transfiguring big objects into smaller ones.

In that manner, the whole day continued. Hagrid didn't show them interesting creatures this time. He just told them to revise the chapter about hippogriffs and dismissed them after one hour. Hagrid giving them homework, that was bitter.

Dinner was quiet again and they all went to bed early. None of the Gryffindors wanted to enjoy some time in the common room. It wasn't the same when Harry was not there. Not that they all talked to him all the time, but the golden trio was not together. They normally were a standard group in the common room and Harry's fate shocked them all. It seemed as if everyone in Gryffindor Tower had lost the delight for chatting and being together in the evenings.

* * *

The next morning, when the students came into the Great Hall there were no bright fires lighting the wall or the usual house banners hanging above the tables. The ceiling showed a clouded sky and the worst of it all: The Great Hall was decorated with black and white Gryffindor banners all over. The teachers were already there, as well as the other three houses. It was totally silent.

Today none of the Slytherins grinned at the arriving Gryffindors. The Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs didn't look up or greeted the lions. Dumbledore stood in front of his speaker's desk and looked at them with a shattered look on his old face. He looked as if he had aged overnight. For the first time in ages, he looked like an old man. The staff table was quiet.

Hagrid sat at the right corner and sniffed into a tablecloth-sized handkerchief. McGonagall was simply pale as snow and Snape sat next to her absolutely petrified, nothing giving away that he was alive.

The Gryffindors who reached the doors to the Great Hall first stopped as soon as they recognized what was going on. Some of them tried to stifle their gasps and cries, others just stared back and forth between the banners and Dumbledore.

A shout sounded from the entrance hall: "Oi! Walk on guys. I'm hungry." Ron started to push through the other Gryffindors, and Hermione followed him rolling her eyes at Ron but said nothing while she pulled Neville along.

What Ron hadn't noticed was that all the Gryffindors parted to let him through. Fred and George tried to stop him, but he pushed through further until he could see the Great Hall.

He stopped dead in his tracks and stared at the black banners hanging all around the hall and above the Gryffindor table. A choked sob escaped Hermione as she saw why Ron had stopped so suddenly. Neville stared at his friends and did not want to understand what that all meant.

The next moment Ron sprinted along the hall towards Dumbledore and roared: "What have you done?! Where is Harry? You can't tell me he didn't make it! I don't believe you!"

He arrived at the teacher's platform hands clenched into fists and trembling from anger. He stared at the headmaster first in disbelief, then in shock. Dumbledore merely shook his head in sorrow. He panted heavily and suddenly he lunged forward to grab Dumbledore's robes, shake the man, punch him, everything to make him stop this madness but his brothers caught him before he could reach the headmaster. They struggled to hold him back since Ron was struggling to get free to reach the headmaster. The man stood there, not moving at all.

"Don't make fun of such things, Professor! That is not possible... it can't be..." Ron broke down in tears. Professor McGonagall rushed forward and tried to comfort her lion. But Ron seemed to have lost his energy when he realized the truth of this terrible morning. The red-head stopped fighting and leaned against Fred for comfort. In a matter of seconds, his world had been shattered to pieces. To lose Harry was not just losing a friend. It was like having a brother ripped from him. Like a piece of his heart crushed and burned in front of his eyes.

Professor McGonagall felt fury rise inside her. Albus Dumbledore had insisted on telling the Gryffindors the news in front of the whole school. She could not understand why the old wizard had chosen to do it this way. This was torture. Many of her lions were good friends with Harry. To put their reaction on display like that was nothing but cruel.

"I told you, Albus, that this - " She made a gesture to take in the whole situation." is not the right way to tell them! You should have allowed me to tell them in Gryffindor tower!" She glared at her employer then she shoved the Weasleys out of the Great Hall.

Hermione just stood at the entrance, her tears streaming freely. Neville tried to comfort her, but he could barely contain his own tears. The two of them hugged Ron as he came by. Fred, George, Ron, Hermione, and Neville walked out of the Great Hall together, through their housemates. The pain inside them was uncontrollable and all of them wanted to be somewhere other than here.

The Gryffindors were led upstairs to their tower by Professor McGonagall. She wouldn't stand forcing her house to sit in the Great Hall. They needed a sanctuary now. She needed one, too.

* * *

 **Review, please!**


	5. Light and Dark 5 - confusion

**A/N**

 **This chapter contains the use of the cruciatus curse. This story has much pain for the characters in it, but it is not only based on it. They have a reason for their actions.**

 **Enjoy reading and leave a review, please!**

* * *

 _Last chapter:_

 _The Gryffindors were led upstairs to their tower by Professor McGonagall. She wouldn't stand forcing her house to sit in the Great Hall. They needed a sanctuary now. She needed one, too._

* * *

Albus Dumbledore watched the scene with the utmost joy. This was exactly what he had planned to happen. Perhaps even better! Weasley's rage was worth everything. Yes, he had lost McGonagall with this drama, but he had Snape and all the other teachers behind him. Minerva would calm down as soon as this was over.

Albus turned to the students sitting silently at the tables chewing and swallowing the information.

"Originally I wanted to tell that news all of you together. As it seems some students of Gryffindor house need a bit of time." Wow, this was risky. But the kids didn't notice his tone of mockery. Taking a deep breath Dumbledore continued:

"Last night...we found Harry Potter... dead. His body was transferred to Godrics Hollow and will be buried next to his parents. Please continue as normal as possible. Everyone who wants to speak to their head of house is welcomed to do so. I am very sorry that I have to tell you this. Hogwarts has lost one of its students and we have lost a true friend."

'Enough of those sentimental drivel' Dumbledore thought. Then he turned around and sat at his place between the teachers. He met Snape's glare, but the man hastily lowered his gaze when he recognized Dumbledore staring at him.

While he started his breakfast, he ignored the crying sniffling students all around the hall. Obviously that the Hufflepuffs were sentimental, Gryffindor too, but a few students of Ravenclaw looked as if they were near the tears. Slytherin house was quiet. That was enough. They didn't make fun of The Gryffindors. The events seemed to hit them as hard as the others.

It had been easy to lay a glamour over the corpse so that it looked like Harry Potter. A powerful wizard as Albus Dumbledore could fox those stupid order people easily. Well, Molly Weasley had been a hard try-out for his skills since she knew the boy just as well as her own brood. But Albus had managed it. Now the transformed corpse was safely locked away in a coffin and on its way to Godric's Hollow.

He will have to allow the Granger girl, Longbottom and the Weasleys to attempt the 'funeral' but that was alright. Should they drown in their tears when it was what they had to do.

That brought another idea to Dumbledore's mind. The Longbottom boy was the second child which the prophecy could have meant. So why not convince everyone that Harry Potter was not the real Boy-Who-Lived but just the target Voldemort had chosen thirteen years ago?

No hurrying! There was plenty of time to speak to the boy. Let him come to terms with the recent problems then help him and then see what he could do.

Smiling to himself, Albus Dumbledore finished his meal, schooled his features in the mask of sorrow and shock he wanted and left the Great Hall.

* * *

"Master Harry has to get up now." A high voice told the teen on the bed. Harry didn't want to get up. He was still shaking occasionally and until now the only person who had told him to get out of bed was that house elf.

"If Master Harry doesn't get up now I's will tell Master!" The small creature threatened, glaring at the young wizard. Reluctantly Harry got up from the bed. The small elf had followed through with its threats before, better not risk a second time.

"Happy now?" He sneered at the house elf in front of him. The creature nodded with a small grin on its face.

"Master Harry has to take a shower and dress!" The house elf said with a warning tone. Harry rolled his eyes and shuffled over to the en suite. The last time the elf had told Voldemort that he hadn't complied the man had punished him with the cruciatus curse. It had been terrible, and Harry didn't want to attract the man's wrath more than necessary. After all, he was still depending on Voldemort's 'good' mood. But that didn't mean that he could not annoy the little creature in his room a bit.

Since Harry had woken from his sleep a few days ago he hadn't been alone anymore. At all times the silly elf was in his room supervising him. He was bored and he could not risk an escape with this spy here. It was as if Voldemort had heard his vow to escape. Harry's days were filled with a mix of fear, pain, and defiance. In his more courageous moments, he tried to find a way out, he screamed himself hoarse in an attempt to tell someone where he was.

The house elf never talked to him except for short commands or threats. At first, Harry had tried to do small talk with the elf. Maybe this one was a bit like Dobby? That hadn't worked. The elf was sternly silent all the time. It never moved or did anything but sit or stand in the room, watching Harry.

Voldemort had not shown up except for the punishment for disobedience. If that was the only time Harry could speak to another person, he didn't need it. The man expected absolute obedience and was not inclined to hear more from his prisoner than 'Yes, Sir', 'No, Sir', and 'I'm sorry, Sir'. Since the young Gryffindor did not want to risk his life after Voldemort had not killed him yet, he obeyed. There was still hope, Dumbledore would find him. Anyone who helped him out of this hell was welcomed. But until now, no one had shown up.

Until he was able to flee, Harry had decided to play along. If he was weak from the damned curse when there was a chance to run, he could not bear it.

What was he supposed to do anyway? Why had Voldemort not killed him, yet? Harry knew that Lord Voldemort was after him since the beginning of his life.

'Bloody hell, I am the one to defeat that monster, instead, I am sitting around and accept food and potions from him!' Harry thought angrily. The problem was that there was still the strange kindness Voldemort showed sometimes. The gentle touch of the long icy fingers somehow filled Harry's insides with a strange warmth. A feeling he feared but longed for at the same time. The young Gryffindor didn't understand one bit of it.

Then the memory of their last encounter came to his mind.

 _"Master Harry has to get up." The house elf squeaked for the third time this morning. Stepping closer to the bed, the creature tried to take Harry's blankets away._

 _"Leave me alone!" Harry snarled from under his covers and grabbed his covers tighter. Why should he get up? What for? For being tortured again?_

 _"If Master Harry refuses to get up, I's will call Master." The creature told him and crossed its arms in front of the small chest. When Harry didn't reply or move the elf snapped its fingers and a few moments later the door opened to reveal Lord Voldemort._

 _Harry whipped his head around and stared in fear at the man. Then his eyes flickered to the little elf in fury. Why was this little thing so nasty? It seemed that there were not just nice house elves like Dobby in this world. Harry shivered when his gaze found the snake-faced man once more. As the familiar icy voice reached Harry's ears he quickly looked back at the man._

 _"Harry, Harry, Harry. Cluni told me that you don't want to do what you are told. As it seems your lesson was not as well learned as I thought."_

 _Voldemort walked over to the bed, reaching for his wand. When Harry saw the man approach, he scrambled off his bed and tried to run for the open door. His hopes were reduced to nothingness though as he was just two steps away from the door. The heavy wood banged shut and a soft clicking sound told Harry, that it was locked._

 _Panicking he spun around and saw Voldemort standing in front of him. The boy backed away but after just a few steps he hit the wood of the door. Frightened to no ends he turned and tried to open the door, but the knob wouldn't move. He drove his fists against the door in resignation and anger but soon he felt a hand grab his shoulder and flinched away. He attempted to dive under Voldemort's arms, but the man held him back. Pressing him against the wood._

 _"You know what the consequence of disobedience is, my boy. Be a brave Gryffindor and face your punishment!"_

 _The red eyes stared at him and Harry decided to try something else. Quickly he spun on his heel and kicked Voldemort in the shin. Then he went for a punch against Voldemort's wand arm._

 _Before he could even hit his target, he screamed and fell to the floor thrashing around in agony. Harry was not able to think straight anymore. Everything he knew was that he just wanted the pain to stop. White hot daggers pierced his skin while he felt like being thrown into boiling water. His lunges were empty from all the screaming but there was no way to get fresh air because all his muscles twitched and contracted, not following his will._

 _"This is your punishment for disobedience. I expect you to follow Cluni's orders as long as I am not here."_

 _Harry screamed again. Then suddenly the pain was gone and just a dull ache and the violent trembling remained. He felt weak like all his energy and strength had been consumed by the curse. Panting heavily, Harry lay at Voldemort's feet and looked up with glassy eyes. The tears still leaking out of the corners of his eyes, he desperately tried to blink away the black edges around his sight._

 _The older wizard glared at him. He drummed his fingers on the surface of the desk. His face was a stony, hard mask._

 _"I am waiting, Harry James," Voldemort said his voice dripping with impatience._

 _Relieved that he could breathe properly again, Harry didn't see Voldemort's annoyance._

 _Like two evenings before Harry felt the heavy silence fall on him. This made him recognize his mistake. Quickly he picked himself up into a sitting position and looked up. Self-preservation kicked in, and Harry did the only thing he could think of to save himself more pain._

 _"I am sorry, ...Sir." He said quietly. Voldemort nodded and stared into Harry's emerald eyes until the boy lowered his gaze. Burning shame welled up inside the boy. Every time he let himself be forced into submission by the dark wizard, he was ashamed. Ashamed for his weakness, his fear, and just everything._

 _Satisfied by Harry's reaction, Voldemort continued._

 _"Now we talk about your attack on me. I won't tolerate such behavior..."_

 _Sudden fury rising in his chest, Harry threw all caution away and interrupted the man:_

 _"Oh, come on! I kicked you in the shin. It wasn't even hard since you crashed that curse on me!"_

 _"Do. Not. Interrupt. Me. Boy!" Voldemort roared. The air around him pulsed with barely suppressed magic. He pointed his wand at Harry and another 'crucio' made Harry thrash around on the ground. Voldemort lifted the curse rather quickly. When he spoke again his voice was cold and quiet as usual._

 _"I said: We have to talk about your attack. I will not tolerate any disrespectful behavior. Hopefully, that gets through this thick skull of yours."_

 _He walked over to Harry and circled the panting boy on the floor._

 _Harry mumbled an apology again. That satisfied Voldemort enough to let the young Gryffindor up._

 _"Stand up and turn around!" The older wizard commanded and raised his wand again._

 _Fearful Harry looked at the man and switched his tactic: "Please, Sir..."_

 _"Never beg, Harry. Begging is a sign of weakness. Now stand at the desk and put your hands onto it!"_

 _Slowly Harry shuffled over to his desk and did as he was told. He looked over his shoulder fearfully when Voldemort spoke._

 _"Let this be a lesson, my boy." With that, he swung his wand in a whipping movement. The next moment a deep gash appeared on Harry's back. Harry screamed as he felt his back tearing open._

 _"Turn around!" Voldemort said quietly. Harry turned and didn't dare to look up. Fear was racing through him. The pain made the danger he was in even more clear. He still shook violently from the cruciatus and he felt the blood streaming down his open back. To muffle another howl of pain, Harry bit down on his bottom lip hard._

 _The Dark Lord smiled. Then he walked over to the boy. Harry immediately flinched away and backed away. Voldemort pointed his wand at the young Gryffindor again and Harry closed his eyes tightly, dropping his head in defeat. It was simply too much right now._

 _Voldemort smiled at the younger wizard cowering away from him. Then he muttered a healing spell for Harry's back. He had wanted to leave it open for a few hours, but the cruciatus had done enough to the thin lad. His legs were shaking, and his breathing was flat and quick. The young face was twisted in pain and fear and the tears seemed to never dry, as the steady stream flooded down the boy's cheeks._

 _When Voldemort stood in front of the boy, he gently placed a hand on Harry's shoulder and squeezed it which made the boy flinch even more. Harry hadn't even noticed that the gash was gone._

 _"I am sorry, Sir." The young Gryffindor said. His voice was trembling. That made Voldemort smile. Nothing is better than fear to make someone obedient. He pulled Harry close and embraced him in his arms. The raven-haired teen went completely stiff under the touch._

 _Harry's heart hammered unbelievingly quick in his chest but after just a few moments the weariness and weakness the teen felt deep in his body won. He felt his knees buckle and then the strong arms around his torso holding him up and close._

 _"You are forgiven, Harry." Voldemort grinned from one ear to the other over Harry's head. 'That's right my little Horcrux.' he thought and tightened the embrace to comfort the younger wizard. That made Harry go limp completely and he let himself fall into the suddenly warm arms. He rested his head against Voldemort's chest and closed his eyes, surrendering to the tiredness._

* * *

Harry came out of the shower and dried himself quickly. Then he walked out into the main room to dress. Then he sat at his desk where a tray with breakfast was. Next to the tray lay an edition of the Daily Prophet.

Curious he opened the folded paper and stared at a picture of himself. The headline declared in capital letters: "Harry Potter kidnapped and killed by You-Know-Who" _._

The piece of bacon he just wanted to eat dropped together with the fork before it landed on the plate.

"No, No, no... They can't really think... It's been just a few days!" Harry mumbled. Why didn't they look for him? He hastily opened the Daily Prophet and read the first page.

 _'The-Boy-Who-Lived found dead. Last Night the organized group of Aurors and Hogwarts-staff found the body of Harry Potter. The thirteen-year-old was kidnapped four days ago by Death Eaters. Since the savior of the wizarding world disappeared, we all worried about his fate. As it seems he finally lost the battle against Him-Who-must-not-be-named. In respect to the friends of Harry Potter, there will be no official funeral._

 _Harry Potter will be entombed in Godric's Hollow near his parents, James, and Lily Potter. The whole wizarding world is shocked by that terrible news._

 _Rest in Peace, Harry Potter. A brave heart never dies.'_

Below the article was a picture of the Great Hall. Above the Gryffindor table hung black and white Gryffindor banners and along the walls were completely black ones. The Hall was empty, but the banners slowly swung back and forth.

Harry let the newspaper slide out of his trembling hands. They could not have given up on him. Where was the evidence? He sat here, alive! Why did they believe he was dead? Why...? Then his thoughts wandered off to Ron and Hermione. Those two thought he was dead. He imagined Ron fuming with rage, red-faced and pacing while Hermione sat in silence and cried. That image broke his heart and he stood from the desk, walking over to the door. Tears streamed down his face and the feeling of betrayal spread inside him.

"Master Harry is not to leave ..." The elf couldn't end its sentence as an invisible force knocked him against the wardrobe and struck the little creature unconscious.

Harry's Magic lashed around him, mirroring his sudden fury.

He tried to open the door, but the bloody thing wouldn't move. He raised his fists and hammered at the dark wood.

"Voldemort! Come here, you coward! Where is the _Dark Lord_ when he is needed?" Harry yelled, stressing every word with a heavy punch against the door. Then he threw a few curses at the man and continued ranting. Soon his knuckles were bleeding and the pain seared through his wrists and forearms. But Harry did not stop. He didn't want to stop. The whole world thought he was dead. They didn't even seem to have some hope left. That could not be real! Why should all those people he loved just believe him dead when he was relatively well and alive?

After just five minutes of uninterrupted punching and shouting, the door opened suddenly. Voldemort flew into the room and grabbed Harry by the collar of his shirt.

"Be quiet, boy!" he commanded laying all the ice he got into his voice.

Briefly frightened by the man Harry remembered his friends and started anew:

"Yeah? Quiet? What if I do not shut up? Will you torture me again? You..." His words were drowned in screams as he thrashed once more around on the floor.

Voldemort lifted the curse and fixed the young Gryffindor with an icy glare.

"Is that all... you've got... you monster?!" Harry panted. The pain was unbearable but not as much agony as the thought of all his friends and teachers abandoning him. The dark-haired teen pushed himself up onto his hands and knees before he got on his feet.

Then he stared into the crimson orbs and grinned: "Do it! Get over with it and kill me! That's all you ever wanted! Now you can do it without a problem. To _them,_ I AM already DEAD!"

Tears were rolling down his face, his legs trembled from the curse. This very moment Voldemort lashed out and backhanded the teen across the mouth.

"Shut up, boy!" He tucked his wand away. He had never thought that Harry threw a fit at that. It seemed that this boy was more of a fighter than he had thought.

"What did you do? Why do they think I am dead?" Harry yelled directly into Voldemort's face. His lip was bleeding, but he did not care at all. There was nothing to care for anymore. He was officially declared dead. His friends will bury him. Why be careful?

"I did nothing to make them believe that, Harry. Where is the fun in ending the hope of all those people to get you back?" He grinned satisfied with the terror settling on the young face in front of him. Then suddenly the blind fury in the boy's eyes was replaced by a glimpse of something else.

"Who assures me that you are not lying. That the newspaper was not faked. That you have not all this planned from the beginning?" Harry yelled again. This could not be true this could not be possible!

"What do you think, Harry? As it seems Dumbledore has other plans..." He trailed off when the reports of his Death Eaters came into his mind.

Lucius and Bella had both told him that Dumbledore directed the search far away from Riddle Manor. The old fool had to think he killed the boy at sight. Interesting.

In the meantime, Harry had stopped ranting and stared at Voldemort.

"Dumbledore? Why should Dumbledore fake my death? Are you mental?" The boy snarled fury still evident in his green eyes.

"That's enough, young man. I will not tolerate your behavior anymore. I understand that you are angry and disappointed, but I do not have an explanation for this. Show some respect and I might start some research."

Harry bit down hard on his lip and swallowed the offending titles he had prepared for the man. Maybe Voldemort was able to find out more? What could he do anyway? He couldn't run.

"What do you think, my boy. Your behavior requires correction." The young Gryffindor paled suddenly far away from ranting and shouting.

"No. I am sorry, Sir... It won't happen again!"

"I am positive that it will not happen again. To make sure of that, turn around and stand in the corner.

Timeout? Really, Lord Voldemort, the darkest wizard of this century, handed out timeouts? Harry was about to laugh at that when he felt a mighty stinging hex hit his bottom. He yelped from the sudden pain and spun around to look at Voldemort.

The man just made a circular motion with his wand and Harry turned around again. The glare the man had shot at him made clear that there was no room for negotiation or escape. Harry leaned his forehead against the cold wall and waited.

Six other bad stinging hexes hit his rear before Voldemort allowed him to turn around again. The pain made him feel better. Why, Harry couldn't tell. Perhaps because someone finally showed him the consequences for his actions? Stupid, that monster probably just enjoyed hurting him. Voldemort didn't care for Harry. No one had…

"I'm sorry, Sir. I lost control… It's just..." Now the tears were not from fury but pain and shame. 'I was throwing a fit like a five-year-old.' Harry thought. Suddenly all his will to fight was gone. He was imprisoned by his archenemy, his friends believed him dead, he would never again see Ron or Hermione or all the others he loved, never again...

But Voldemort did not reply. When Harry looked up, he saw the open arms of the man. 'Just this one time!' he told himself and stepped into the hug. Right now, he felt totally lost and betrayed. And Voldemort was the only person who showed signs of comfort. Why not take the chance when facing it? What could happen? It is already at the worst.

Slowly closing his eyes, the young Gryffindor surrendered to the warm feeling that spread in his chest as he felt the strong arms encircle him gently.

"Why don't you just kill me?" The boy asked quietly, still leaning against his enemy.

"Do you want to die, Harry?" The man questioned back and pushed Harry a bit away from him so he could look in the green eyes. They were glassy with tears and Voldemort saw the despair and sorrow in them. He gently lifted Harry's chin until the eyes looked directly into his own.

"No... Sir. But It seems that I can't decide whether I want or not. The whole wizarding world thinks I am ...dead. And you...don't want me... either." The Gryffindor dropped his head as a choked sob escaped his lips.

Slowly Voldemort embraced the boy again. On the one hand to really comfort him, on the other hand, to hide his grin. The old fool had managed to drive the precious golden boy far, far away from him and his matter. It could not be easier to turn the boy to his side. Voldemort had the teen in his arms in exactly the moment he broke.

But the Boy-Who-Lived broke not from pain, he broke from the abandonment and betrayal of those people he held dear. There was something Voldemort felt connected to with the lad. The feeling of not being wanted or loved was all too familiar to the Dark Lord. He himself had been a boy once. A lonely boy whose hopes had been shattered mercilessly because of his interests. Voldemort forced himself back into the present and let himself go in the feeling of power he had at the moment. Maybe more than ever before.

"Then, Harry, you will live." The man said quietly and stroked the soft dark hair.

"Where is the point in this?" Came the muffled voice from Voldemort's chest.

"Stop crying and I will show you, my lion." The Dark Lord said.

* * *

 **So what do you think?**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N**

 **Here you go. Another chapter for you all!**

 **I re-read the first scene a lot. The first draft left me in tears at 3 am in the morning. I hope you enjoy this chapter.**

 **I felt like the first scene needed something after it, so I made this chapter longer.**

 **Let me know how you like the ideas, and the development this story goes through!**

* * *

They stood near the small stone wall surrounding the cemetery. It was quiet in Godric's Hollow. There were not many people outside as if they had been locked inside by an invisible force. Like something was keeping them inside their safe, warm houses with their loved ones. As if the world wanted to show the witches and wizards of the graveyard how much they had lost.

Ron, Hermione, Neville, Ginny, Fred and George, and Arthur and Molly Weasley were there as well as the Professors Dumbledore, McGonagall, Snape and Flitwick. Dumbledore had only allowed those few to attend Harry's funeral. It was risky enough these times to go there at all the headmaster had told them. Many other students had protested. There was the plan for a huge funeral for the Boy-Who-Lived but Dumbledore had stopped the minister from it.

During the funeral, the students and staff at Hogwarts will meet in the Great Hall to remember Harry. Everyone who wanted could come but even the Slytherins had agreed to take part in the memorial ceremony.

The small group walked through the gates of the cemetery and slowly made its way to the back of it. The cold air seemed to weigh them all down and the old headstones along the path silently greeted them for the last Goodbye the were about to say.

There, a bit covered in moss were the headstones of Lily and James Potter. The last thirteen years had made them darker because of the constant weather. Still, the names carved into the stone could be seen easily. Those names weren't forgotten, yet, like some of the other graves that looked like no one had visited them in hundreds of years.

The little group stopped in front of the small empty space next to the two Potter graves. There was no hole, yet. Just the snow and grass had been removed to render the location.

Severus stood in the background. He didn't like that he belonged here. He had failed to keep his promise to Lily. He had not protected her son from harm. To stand here, next to her headstone burying her son was even harder to endure than her funeral so many years ago. All he wanted was to drop to his knees before his friend's grave and beg for forgiveness. He didn't want to be here if he thought about it. But Dumbledore had forced him to. Severus had asked the headmaster to excuse him from the funeral, but the man had just shaken his head no and told him to pull himself together. The Potions Master felt the gaze of his employer on him and took a deep breath to hold back the tears forming in his eyes.

Ron and Hermione stood in the front row of the group. Ron just stood there unmoving, holding Hermione's hand in a death grip. The girl stared at the muddy spot to her feet, silent tears streaming down her face. They were pale with dark smudges under their eyes as if they hadn't slept properly.

Arthur tried to think of the happy moments with the dark-haired boy who had been like a son to him. This was as he had to bury one of his own. But he had to stay strong. Just a bit longer. As soon as they were home again, he would give in to his emotions and cry. But now He wanted to be strong. Strong for the boy who would never smile at him again.

While the twins comforted each other, crying a bit, Molly embraced Ginny in a tight hug.

It was a great shock to her, seeing the broken body of her son of heart. Dumbledore had stood near her as they found the corpse. He had hurried over to the spot and Molly hadn't thought about it and followed. The picture she had seen there was nothing that could be described by words. She just wanted to forget the image. Ginny was crying quietly from time to time small sobs escaped her mouth. She pressed against her mother for comfort and Molly hugged her tight.

Minerva McGonagall stepped closer to Severus. She knew exactly how much this tortured him deep inside. The man did not look well. He had dark bags under his eyes, his face was even paler normal, and he was trembling slightly. Grabbing his hand gently to not startle him she drowned her grief over her lion in comforting her colleague. Minerva did not know how she should keep herself together if the dams broke for the first time. Severus flinched from the touch but relaxed within seconds. The little warmth coming from Minerva's hand kept him in place. He closed his eyes in pain and nodded curtly to show her he appreciated her actions.

"I'm here, Severus," Minerva whispered so quietly that only the dark man could hear her. The normally firm voice of the transfigurations Professor was trembling as she spoke. Severus noticed it but he could only give another small nod. Then he forced himself to slightly pressing her hand. His fingers were stiff with cold, but what was a little discomfort compared to the pain of a young Gryffindor?

Professor Flitwick sniffled into a handkerchief not thinking at all. It happened not often that they lost a student, but when it happened it shook him deep inside. This was maybe a bit more difficult because today they buried the Boy-Who-Lived. The small Professor had always thought of Harry Potter as the Boy-Who-Lived until the scrawny child had appeared for his first year. From the first lesson on, the boy was Harry to him.

The weight on Harry's shoulders had continuously increased over the years and now, just two and a half years after the little green-eyed boy had looked at the floating candles in the Great Hall for the first time, they had lost him. The Professors had been informed about the extra classes Dumbledore put the child through since his second year. Apparently, they hadn't been enough to keep him alive for long.

Dumbledore stepped near the muddy spot and waved his wand. The glamor, keeping the coffin and the headstone as well as the cavern hidden, fell. A white marble headstone stood at the top end of the grave and the dark brown, wooden coffin was placed next to the pit. A soft whimper and some stifled gasps were heard behind the headmaster, and Dumbledore smiled viciously.

Slowly Dumbledore hovered the coffin into the pit. Nobody said something while the last bit of Harry Potter was laid into the hole. When the coffin was gently settled on the ground of the pit, Dumbledore stepped back to give the others some needed to say goodbye to their friend, almost son, and student. It was necessary in order to get them to believe in another 'hero'.

One after another they stepped forward and conjured a flower of their choice, letting it drop on top of the coffin. A ritual practiced at magical funerals for over a thousand years.

It was a silent funeral. Nobody spoke an official word since they wanted to speed Harry on his way quietly. Each of them remembering him the way it came to their minds as they stepped forward.

Hermione stepped forward and let a small, white rose to float down into the grave. While she watched the flower fall, she thought of the happy moments they had spent with Harry. After a while, she stepped back slowly only to be embraced by Molly Weasley. Her last memory of Harry would be her secret. His laughter, smile and his green eyes flashing with mischief.

Then Ron stood at the cavern, conjured a dandelion and turned abruptly. Tears streamed down his face as he walked to the back of the group to get away from this horror. His best mate, the boy he had grown to see as a normal boy, not a celebrity, because of the deep friendship that had developed over the last years.

Molly sent a pitiful look after her youngest son. Then she led Ginny forward as she stepped to the front. The girl's wand trembled but she managed to conjure a slightly crooked tulip. Molly held on to her daughter for dear life as she sent her forget-me-not down. She lowered her head, to hide her tears. But just after she had steered Ginny away from the grave, she scolded herself for hiding. Harry deserved to be grieved for like he was her own. With that Molly Weasley raised her head and showed her sorrow to the world. Proud to call Harry her 'almost son'.

Arthur was the next one to say goodbye to Harry. He let his tears run freely over his face while his shaky hands conjured a small sunflower and he quickly left. Reaching his wife and daughter he embraced them tightly.

The twins made two identical irises appear over the cavern before quickly sending it down and leaving. They didn't want to spend much time at the grave. The shame that welled up inside them was unbearable. When Fred and George had heard of Harry's death, they had been too shocked to understand.

Technically, they had killed their little brother in heart. If they hadn't been so dumb to give him the map, Harry would still be alive and well.

Neville froze at the sight of Harry's coffin with the small collection of flowers on top. He thought of which flower he wanted to conjure and finally decided. A Slender jasmine floated downwards. With a last shaky nod towards his friend, Neville left the open grave and returned to his place.

When it was Minerva's turn, she levitated the small, dark red lady's mantle over the pit before it slowly sank down to her gone lion. Her usually stern face grew soft for a moment, but she forced the tears and despair down. Quickly she returned to her place to hide all the tears threatening to splash out of her eyes. This time it was Severus who grabbed her hand firmly to comfort her.

Filius came after her and sent a small daisy towards his student. Then he too hurried to the back and stood a few steps away from Ron. His short arms tightly crossed over his chest. Because of the cold. Not to seek some comfort.

Severus was the second to last to approach the grave. He forced his steps to stride as usual. But the firmness was missing. The security. He stood there for a long while until he managed to raise his wand and create a white lily floating gracefully down to her child. As soon as the flower landed, he slammed his occlumency walls in place and strode away from the open grave. To the others, the Potions Master looked as aloof as usual. The stern unmoving mask was drawn over his features not revealing his inner fight for composure. His dark robes hiding his trembling body from views.

Dumbledore finished the procedure with sending a trumpet gentian blossom down. Then he raised his wand and out of nowhere the soil appeared and covered the coffin with the flowers. The grave rapidly filled, and the grass was placed back on top. At last, soft snowflakes rained down and covered the hopelessness surrounding the child.

Everyone raised their wands pointing at the sky. Suddenly it was dark around them. A simple spell made the room around them grow dark for a few moments so that the weakly shining wand tips could be seen. The group sent their last greetings to the Boy-Who-Lived. Then slowly they walked off and took the already functional portkeys back to home or Hogwarts. They left the temporal darkness around the Potter tombs and the sunlight spilled through the trees again. The snow glittering in the light.

Dumbledore saw Minerva and Severus linger at the grave, staring blankly at the headstone. It took just a few seconds for Severus to notice the glare from the headmaster. He looked up shyly, eyes glassy with tears. He met Dumbledore's cold blue eyes and laid all his sorrow and grief for Lily and her son into his gaze.

"Please..." he whispered, and his trembling voice broke within the single word.

Dumbledore saw and heard that very well. He stared back unmoved for a long time, but finally, he nodded ever so slightly. Then the headmaster turned and left, apparating back to Hogwarts.

On the graveyard in front of Harry's headstone, Severus' knees buckled, and a terrible sob escaped his mouth. Minerva got down next to the kneeling man and embraced him awkwardly. She knew how hard this must be for the young Potions Master, but she had never imagined witnessing one of his weak moments since the man always stayed composed and cool. He had never allowed himself to let his emotions out uncontrolled. Right now, Minerva could see the scared boy within her ex-student. Somewhere under this cold mask was still a broken child.

"Severus...he finally found peace... Now they are together..." Minerva tried to comfort her colleague but after her words, she was not able to hold back her own tears anymore.

Slowly Minerva allowed herself to let her tears flow freely. That way the two stayed there. The cold snow soaking through their clothes, chilling them to the bones.

After long tearful minutes, Minerva and Severus rose to a standing position again. With a last look at the headstone, they apparated back to Hogwarts.

The picture of the white headstone shining in the soft sunlight was forever burned into their memories.

 _Harry James Potter_

 _31_ _st_ _July 1980 - 15_ _th_ _January 1994_

 _A heart of gold stopped beating, but some survivors never die_

* * *

Dumbledore was pacing his office like every so often during the last two weeks. The funeral went well. Everyone believed in the illusion. Now came a rather difficult part. Winning the Longbottom boy.

Albus had sent him an owl in the morning after he had declared that from now on in Hogwarts the lessons and activities will continue as usual. The time of open sorrow was over. All the students were to forget the golden boy as quickly as possible. Now the headmaster was waiting for his soon-to-be hero.

'The bloody boy is late.' Dumbledore thought and wondered why. Potter had always been punctual for their meetings.

Six minutes after the assigned time a shy knock sounded through the office. Straightening his features into the winning grandfather mask, Dumbledore waved his wand to open the door.

On the step was a redheaded Neville Longbottom. The headmaster sighed inwardly. 'The boy isn't even able to look presentable.'

"Good evening, Mr. Longbottom," Albus said warmly and smiled at the teen. His face ached from the effort.

"Good evening, h-headmaster." The boy retorted. Swallowing hard he spoke again.

"I'm sorry for being late, Professor. I lost track of time over my divination homework."

'Merlin's beard. The boy is even more pathetic than I thought!' Dumbledore thought before smiling again.

"No problem, Mr. Longbottom. Homework is quite important for a young gentleman like you. But why don't you come in and sit with me?"

The boy nodded jerkily and moved forward to the indicated chair in front of the huge oak desk. Dumbledore groaned inwardly. This would be difficult.

"You certainly are wondering why I want to speak to you, my boy." The headmaster stated looking a bit less friendly at the teen.

"Yes, Sir," Neville said watching the old man attentively. He had never been in the headmaster's office and was a little intimidated by all the stuff in there. And the headmaster himself. Harry had been alone with the man for extra lessons, how he could stand that intense gaze from Dumbledore was a riddle to Neville. He felt more than uncomfortable in Dumbledore's presence.

"Very well. What I am going to tell you, my boy, might be a little shock for you but I will help you wherever I can, alright?" Albus started his offense. The shy smile on Longbottom's face crumpled a bit but he nodded.

"Well, Neville. As you know Harry was the chosen one destined to fight Lord Voldemort." Dumbledore made a dramatic pause to emphasize his words. "There was a prophecy made quite a time before he was born. It said that Voldemort would mark him as his equal and no one could live while the other one survives." He paused again and watched the boy.

Neville tried not to fidget while he listened to the headmaster. Harry had been the Boy-Who-Lived. Everybody knew that. But what was is that the Professor wanted to tell him?

"This part of the prophecy is well known. But unfortunately, there was a second part which was covered and hidden from public because it was too dangerous to spread the news.

I'll tell you the second part now. Then you will think about it and tell me the solution. I am positive that you are quite capable of figuring it out, Neville."

The teenager nodded once more not really understanding what he was told. There was a second part of the prophecy? Neville quickly decided to listen first and then make his conclusions.

"Yes, Sir," he said as he recognized that Dumbledore wanted an answer. The headmaster smiled and instantly Neville felt saver in the old man's presence. 'That is an explanation of why Harry had come so often to see the headmaster.' Neville thought.

"Now listen carefully, my boy. „Albus continued. "The whole prophecy is:

" _The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies...1_ _But the savior will be gone before his time comes...this will open the way for the true lion to conquer the Dark Lord...for the one hidden until this time..."_

Dumbledore stopped reciting and watched Neville with his blue eyes. This was the most dangerous part of Dumbledore's plan. It took some time for Neville to process the last part of the text but after a few minutes, his eyes went wide. He looked up in shock at his Professor and opened his mouth to speak but there was no sound coming from his lips.

Dumbledore smiled at the teen: "Now, my boy, tell me what you think!" He commanded casually twinkling at the young Gryffindor.

"Umm...so Harry... is...was meant with the first part. Now he is gone...l-like the prophecy tells. That means there must be another powerful wizard to save us from You-Know-Who!" A big smile spread across the young features and Dumbledore resisted the urge to roll his eyes. The child was a bit slow-thinking.

"Yes, Neville. You are correct. There is another young man among us who is able to fight Voldemort. You were born one day before Harry, weren't you?" He tried to help the teen.

"Yes, Sir. " Was all Neville retorted, still not knowing what Dumbledore wanted.

The headmaster sighed and gave another hint. "You are in Gryffindor, right? So, you are a lion..." He waved his hands meaningfully through the air. That was certainly enough of a hint?

Then Neville understood and his eyes went even wider than before. He looked at Dumbledore with the utmost shock evident on his face.

"You...You mean that...I... am the one to d-defeat You-Know-Who?!" He exclaimed. At Dumbledore's nod, he slumped back in his seat and stared at the ceiling.

"But that can't be possible. I am not even half as brave as Harry! I can't do that! That must be a mistake!" Now the boy was hyperventilating, good start.

"Neville calm down! I am certain that you are the one who is meant with this prophecy. We managed to keep you safe from Voldemort over all those years. In the beginning, it was luck that Voldemort chose Harry and not you. We feared that you might be his target, but it seems that he had changed his mind within the last second. Now it is time for you to face your designation. I will help you and train you to become as powerful as Harry was, and even more."

Neville was trembling now. His eyes were fixed onto something non-existent. Slowly Dumbledore stood from his chair and went over to the shocked teen. He knelt in front of Neville and took his hands hi his.

"Neville, calm down! There is nothing to be afraid of. We will all help you. You are destined to defeat Voldemort. The prophecy does not lie. You will succeed. I know you will. Look at me!" Dumbledore let some of his magic wash over Longbottom to stress his promises.

Slowly, very slowly, Neville focused his eyes in the headmaster, his breathing was still fast.

"I...I can't..." he rasped, his voice was a bit hoarse and he was still trembling.

Dumbledore sighed and embraced the boy, pressing him against his chest. "Neville, you are a very strong young man. Your parents would be proud of you, they sacrificed their sanity for you. Just think about how proud they would be, knowing that their son conquered Lord Voldemort himself! They would be delighted to see that their protection made such a fine lion out of you. Believe me, my boy, you can do this."

Neville's shoulder stopped shaking and he carefully pulled away from Dumbledore.

"Do you really think, Sir? They would be proud?"

"Yes, Neville. I am quite sure about that."

The teen rubbed his face with his hands and looked up again. "Professor?"

"Yes, my boy?"

Neville swallowed and took a deep breath then he met Dumbledore's eyes and said:

"Do you think... Harry would be alright with this? It sounds like I am the reason that he died..." his voice got quiet at the end of the sentence, but his eyes searched desperately for any relieving motion in the old face of his teacher. That was a line of thinking apparently only young minds could do. Dumbledore hadn't thought about the guilt part for Neville.

"Oh, Neville. Don't think for just one second that you are guilty in that matter." The old wizard said sternly.

"If someone is to be held responsible for the events it is Lord Voldemort. He ripped Harry's and your family apart, he killed Harry and he is the one who must be erased from this world to restore the peace. Do you understand?"

Neville looked like he contemplated the information in his head.

"Yes, Sir. I understand. And thank you for telling me this." Dumbledore nodded and stood.

His knees were throbbing, and he didn't like to fuss over the boy. Harry had never needed such fluffy comfort. Potter had known perfectly well that for comfort he had to go somewhere else. He would have to teach that to Longbottom soon.

"Now, Mr. Longbottom. It is nearly curfew. Please return to your dormitory. We meet tomorrow after dinner to begin your training."

Neville's head shot up. "Tomorrow? Why that soon?"

Dumbledore sighed and resisted his urge to yell at the stupid brat.

"Because, Neville, the sooner we begin the better you get." He forced a smile on his face and motioned for the young Gryffindor to leave.

Neville stood and walked to the door. Before he could open it though, Dumbledore spoke up once more, halting Neville's motions.

"I expect you to be on time tomorrow. For today you are dismissed." The old wizard lowered his gaze to the papers on his desk not paying attention to the boy anymore.

"Yes, Sir. Good night." Neville said shyly and fled the office.

* * *

1 Sybill Trelawney's prophecy made to Albus Dumbledore

* * *

 **How did you like Harry's "funeral"?**

 **What about Dumbledore's plan. Do you think it could work, or has he forgotten something important?**

 **Leave a review and let me know!**


	7. Troubles

**A/N**

 **Here we go, folks! Next chapter is on and I want to post one or two more today, so stay around!**

 **Thanks for your reviews Enjali and Gryffindor01!**

 **Yep, Dumbledore is not really nice here, but I wanted to write him evil this time:-) Yeah, what they all should think and do is another thing, Enjali.**

 **And Gryffindor01: I have been asking myself that for a long time... Probably I am not thaaaat fast with updating... let's see if that chapter gets more reviews!**

 **Please enjoy reading and be warned, the angst and (sadly) the violence are getting more, but there will be light again, I promise:-)**

* * *

 _Previously:_

 _Neville stood and walked to the door. Before he could open it though, Dumbledore spoke up once more._

 _"I expect you to be on time tomorrow. For today you are dismissed." The old wizard lowered his gaze to the papers on his desk not paying attention to the boy anymore._

 _"Yes, Sir. Goodnight." Neville said shyly and fled the office._

* * *

Neville was quiet the whole day. Ron and Hermione did not give a second thought, because it wasn't unusual Neville wasn't speaking. Besides, they all were a bit quieter since Harry had died. Shortly after dinner Neville stood from the table and excused himself. 

"Um... I've to go. Dumbledore wants to see me..."He trailed off seeing the headmaster leave the Great Hall. The ancient wizard didn't look like his true age. His posture was straight, and his eyes held that knowing, sharp gaze that made Neville shiver. Suddenly there was a bit of fear. Harry had never talked about his meetings with Dumbledore, so Neville didn't know what to expect. 

"Alright, mate, see you later then." Ron smiled, and Hermione waved chewing on the rest of her salad. 

With a quick glance at the clock in the entrance hall, Neville sped up his pace. He didn't want to be late again. When he arrived at the corridor leading to the headmaster's office, he ran directly into Snape. 

Neville was too shocked by meeting his most hated teacher that he could not say anything. But Snape seemed anything but angry about the encounter. To be honest, Snape looked tired. He observed Neville over his crooked nose and gave a slight twitch of his mouth. The young Gryffindor couldn't tell if it was disgust or a poor attempt of a smile. 

Snape stepped back a little to bring more space between them and looked at Neville intensely. Neville swallowed heavily and waited for the sharp comment, that was certainly following. Instead, Snape grasped the seams of his sleeves and pulled them straight. 

"Be careful, Longbottom!" he said and walked on without discounting any points. Neville turned around as the man passed him, mouth hanging open. The Gryffindor stared at Snape as the man limped away? 

Another look at the watch told Neville that he had only three minutes to get along the corridor and up the stairs. He sprinted around the last corner and stopped briefly to give the password to the gargoyles. Then he bolted up the stairs. Panting heavily, he took a few moments to breathe and straighten his uniform. And perhaps one or two moments longer to gather his courage.

Then, he knocked at the grand oak door before he could start worrying again. The heavy door swung open to reveal Albus Dumbledore standing in the middle of his office, wand in hand. 

"Good evening, Sir." Neville greeted and smiled at the old wizard. 

"Good evening, Mr. Longbottom. It seems that being on time is not as difficult for you as I thought." Dumbledore nodded curtly and trained his wand directly at the boy. Neville looked at the man in confusion. Why the wand? 

"Since it is our first lesson, my boy, I will warn you. There are rules you must follow. Most of them might seem common to you but they are of the utmost importance for our success." 

Neville looked attentively at the headmaster. Quite logically that there will be rules. It was about life and death after all. The man stared straight into Neville's eyes making the young Gryffindor feel very uncomfortable. Neville nervously stepped from one foot to the other. Dumbledore's wand was still pointing directly at his chest. 

"First: I expect you to be punctual and polite. You will call me 'Sir' or 'Professor' at all times even if I refer to you by your given name. Second: You get all the assistance and help you need if you follow the rules and my commands." Neville nodded. The rules have been okay so far. But something on the way Dumbledore said them was strange. Perhaps it was time to grab his own wand, just in case? But he couldn't raise his wand at a teacher, the headmaster even less! Neville's eyes flickered up to Dumbledore's again as the man started speaking once more. 

"Third: you will do your best in all lessons and study hard. If I get the impression that you are lazy or don't do your best, I will punish you accordingly. Fourth: you will never lie to me. Is that understood, Mr. Longbottom?" 

The silver-grey eyebrows rose high up the man's forehead while he fixed the young Gryffindor with a stern glare. 

Neville surprised by the sudden force and acerbity swallowed a knot in his throat before he answered.

"Yes, Sir. I understand. And thank you for teaching me." He had questions but since he didn't know if that was the right moment, he stopped speaking. Dumbledore always the thorough observer saw the thoughts on the boy's face. 

"Do you have any questions, Mr. Longbottom?" He asked and smiled at the teen. His face was almost the perfect grandfatherly mask he had used so far with the child. The boy was soiling his pants already. Pathetic. 

"Um...yes. Sir! Who else knows of the second part of the p-prophecy?" 

"Your Grandmother will be informed by me. Your Head of House and the other teachers will know. I ask you to keep the fact hidden from most people, though. You may tell your closest friends, but it is very important that we keep you a secret. If Voldemort knew, he could prepare."  
Neville nodded. Then another thought came into his mind. Harry had always looked tired and a bit worn out after his meetings with the headmaster. One time, Neville had seen Harry tend to some bruises in the boy's lavatory late at night. 

"Sir? Does it hurt? The training?" Neville knew he might be able to fulfill Dumbledore's wishes when it came to that. 'Grandmother always says I am weak...' the Gryffindor thought. 

Dumbledore seemed to think things over a few times before he answered.

"I can't promise you that you won't feel pain. We will work on your dueling skills, and Professor Snape will teach you Occlumency to shield your mind from forceful intrusions. Some things are not comfortable but perhaps necessary." 

"I understand, Sir. One more question?" Neville thought a lot last night, and he had concluded he wanted to do anything to revenge the death of his friend as well as the fate of his parents. He would work hard and would defeat Voldemort when the time came. 

Dumbledore inclined his head to allow the question. In comparison to yesterday evening, Longbottom seemed far more sensible and grown-up today. How quick such a 'fate' could change a person. 

"Did Harry learn all those things?" Neville asked quietly. 

"He learned some spells, Occlumency hadn't been necessary, yet. We've spent our lessons figuring out how to defeat Voldemort. But rest assured that he worked very hard for our aim." Dumbledore let the twinkle come back to his eyes. This was a delicate topic, but it was important to convince the boy of the righteousness of it. 

"What do you think? Let's start with some dueling." Dumbledore suggested and Neville nodded, somehow relieved to know that Harry hadn't been defenseless. 'Now it is on me to prove that Harry's death was not for nothing.' the young Gryffindor thought and drew his wand. 

For the next two hours, Dumbledore would show him spells and curses, attack him with those to test Neville's skills. The old wizard threw the red lights at Neville faster and faster, then with more force until Neville managed to block a disarming spell. After that Dumbledore insisted on Neville practicing the 'Expelliarmius' and 'Protego'. The longer they worked the more annoyed the headmaster, and the more exhausted Neville got.

This whole spell casting was draining his magic and his concentration.  
Neville was hit by two bad stinging hexes because he once did not manage to shield himself in time and once because he was concentrating on firing back. 

"Please... Sir. Can we stop? I'm tired..." Neville panted after another half an hour. This delighted Dumbledore not in the slightest and he stepped closer to the sweating, pale Gryffindor.

"Do you think, Neville, that Voldemort would make a break when you ask him for it? Do you think he would stop just because you are tired?" His voice was dangerously quiet as he stared his student directly into the eyes. The boy visibly shuddered, what made Albus grin inwardly. 

"No, Sir," Neville said and dropped his head. Then he yelped from the sudden pain in his right leg as Dumbledore's cutting curse hit him totally unprepared. Shocked Neville looked down and saw his trousers soaking with blood. Tears sprang to his eyes and threatened to spill. He looked up at the headmaster. 

"This or much worse will happen if you stop fighting. There will be no mercy from Lord Voldemort, remember this, my boy!" 

With that Dumbledore stepped closer to the injured boy and healed the small gash. It was not even a big wound. Perhaps a few inches long and not deep at all. But enough to make the boy tremble in shock and pain. Rolling his eyes at the display of weakness, Albus cleaned the trouser-leg and embraced the now crying teen. 

"You are a wonderful boy, Neville. And I know you will do great in the years to come. Have patience, my boy. I am proud of your work today." This made Neville look up and dry his tears with his sleeve. 

"R-Really?" He asked. The pain had not been bad, but the shock about the sudden attack was huge. Neville had never thought of the old man to be that aggressive. But the waves of power radiating from the man told another story. Oddly enough, Neville felt a warm feeling spread in his chest as he heard that Dumbledore was proud of him. 

"Yes, my boy. Now go to Gryffindor tower and to bed. You look like you need the sleep right now. If you have got any problems, do not hesitate to come." 

Neville smiled at the headmaster. The man was quite capable of helping him Neville decided and turned around to leave the office. 

Yes, Sir. Goodnight." He said. As he was about to open the door, the knob suddenly heated immensely and Neville nearly burned his hand. He yelped and looked back at Dumbledore appalled. The grey-haired man smiled at him and nodded. 

"You are dismissed." He said evenly and ignored the boy again. Neville quickly slipped out of the doors and disappeared to Gryffindor. 

Maybe Longbottom would learn over time. Maybe he would stop being the weak toad as which he had presented himself while dueling. Potter had at least been quiet and had worked hard. But this boy... perhaps Dumbledore should have really searched for the Potter brat. 

But Longbottom was someone he could manipulate more easily. Although Potter seemed to be dependent on the approval of others, he had started to test his boundaries this year. Over and over he had questioned commands and doubted the information Albus had given him. So, this was better. Having a mouldable young mind and not such a terrible curious and observing one like Potter's. 

Even if the boy would live at the time the two teens stood facing each other. Neville would be a strong opponent with Albus himself as a puppeteer in the background. 'I have all the wizard of the light side behind me. Tom has no chance against our joined forces.' Albus grinned to himself. Then he retreated to his chambers working on his plans. 

* * *

Cool fingers gently shoved his hair out of Harry's forehead. The soft touch was repeated and slowly Harry opened his eyes. He lay under warm, dark blue blankets and his head rested on a soft pillow. Harry felt exhausted to no ends. His whole body ached, but the greatest pain was in his chest, deep inside him. The teen looked up and met the red eyes of Lord Voldemort.

Quickly he lowered his gaze again. He was even too tired to be afraid of the man. The young Gryffindor just lay in the comfortable bed with the blue curtains and didn't want to move. 

The cool fingers returned. This time they pushed his chin a little bit upward so that he was forced to look at the man sitting on the edge of the bed. With a jolt, Harry realized this was not the room he had slept in over the last week. This one was large, had big windows and more than the rudimental furniture the other room had sported. 

Before Harry could take in more than that the fingers under his chin forced him to look directly at Voldemort. 

"Do you feel better, Harry?" The pale man asked while a small smile spread across his lips. 

"Tired." Harry rasped. His voice broke at the end of the single word. Had he been screaming again? It wouldn't astonish him. 

The Dark Lord nodded and grabbed something from the nightstand; Harry could not see.

Something cool and even was held against his lips and Harry opened his mouth willingly. He swallowed the whole liquid. The ache faded immediately and the slight tremors racking his body eased. Instantly Harry felt a lot better. He looked back at Voldemort. 

"Thank you, Sir." He said, his voice now working flawlessly. The man nodded and helped him sit up. His hands felt so very gentle on Harry's body, and to the boy's pure horror, he leaned into the touch. 

"You were asleep for quite a while, Harry. I thought it might be good for you to get some rest after that shattering news. I did some research, though. Do you want to hear what I found out?" 

The Gryffindor nodded, but he did look very uninterested. Instead, he turned something over in his mind again and again. 

"Very well. Your _funeral_ was held yesterday in Godrics Hollow. The teachers and your closest friends, as well as their families, attended it. One of my followers was there but was unseen by the others." 

Harry just nodded. It couldn't be possible. Why should all his friends and teachers abandon him this way? Who did they bury? Certainly not Harry Potter! The thoughts were racing in his mind, but Harry could not comprehend what might have led them all to believe him dead? 

Sad and somewhat angry, Harry closed his eyes again and turned his head away from the monster next to him. This couldn't be real. Why should Voldemort of all people comfort him? 'This is not real' The boy thought but Voldemort's voice confirmed his fears. 

"I let you sleep some more. We can speak later, my lion." With that, the dark man stepped away from the bed and left the room. 

Harry on the other side lay there still not knowing what to believe. Voldemort had captured him. He had tortured him. But the man had also fed him and h-hugged him. Voldemort had been there when Harry had lost it. This had been the first time when someone had held Harry while he was crying. 

But it was Voldemort, nevertheless. Harry's thoughts wandered to Ron and Hermione. Those two would certainly not abandon him just like that. There was no chance that the whole Weasley family would stop loving him. 

Voldemort had killed Harry's parents. 'This monster is the reason why I am here' Harry thought and slowly an idea began to form in his mind. This was another room. It had windows. And maybe the biggest change was that this annoying house-elf was not there. Harry pushed the covers away and sat up in the large bed. His clothes lay across the room on a chair. That was his chance! Stumbling over to the chair, Harry dressed as quickly as possible. Then he stepped to the window. 

He could see a green lawn which closed the distance from the house to a forest. 'Maybe I could hide there? Maybe beyond the forest is a street or anything?'  
Taking a deep breath Harry tried to open the window. But the handle did not move an inch. Harry looked around the room and saw a lamp sitting on the nightstand. Quickly he grabbed the lamp and positioned himself a few feet away from the window. Then he hauled the lamp against the window and watched with satisfaction as the glass broke into a thousand pieces. 

The next moment the blankets from the bed lay over the sharp edges of the broken window and Harry was crouching on the windowsill. The room had to be on the second floor. Gulping down his fear, Harry adjusted his feet so that they were dangling from the outer windowsill. 

'Neville was dropped out of the third-floor-window and he bounced!' Harry tried encouraging himself. Then he closed his eyes and before he could think of it, the young Gryffindor jumped. 

He fell towards the ground, and Harry hoped he would not break an ankle or something. The lawn came nearer. Just before he hit the ground, Harry shut his eyes tightly. Then he felt himself meet solid ground rather unpleasantly. It hurt a bit, but Harry rolled quickly to his side to get up. 

When he put his hands down on the floor to push himself up, the boy noticed that he was not sitting on the lawn. He felt no sunlight on his skin. Confused, Harry looked down and saw a dark brown parquet floor. His head shot up and his heart skipped a beat as he saw the person sitting behind the heavy desk. As quickly as possible the teen scrambled to his feet and tried to run, but his feet were glued to the floor. 

'This can't be possible!' Harry wanted to scream his despair out loud, but he was too frustrated to do anything than stare at Voldemort behind his desk. Harry's breathing hitched and a sob escaped his mouth. He covered his face with his hands. He didn't want to see anything. Another sob escaped him, and this time Voldemort looked up. 

The boy stood there in his office. That meant he had tried to jump out of the window. It was charmed to send the person jumping out of it directly into Voldemort's study. As it seemed, it worked rather well. 

Slowly Voldemort stood and approached the sobbing teen. Harry looked up and began to tremble as he saw the familiar pale wand pointed at him. He heard no incantation but two seconds later he was thrashing around on the floor. How long this went on, Harry couldn't tell. At some point, his scar broke open and blood blurred his vision as it ran down his face. Eventually, the darkness unbanned him from the pain and humiliation. 

* * *

What do you think? Reviews?;-)


	8. Two faces of a man

**A/N**

 **second Chapter today! Hit the review button, guys!**

* * *

 _Previously:_

 _Slowly Voldemort stood and approached the sobbing teen. Harry looked up and began to tremble as he saw the familiar pale wand pointed at him. He heard no incantation but two seconds later he was thrashing around on the floor. How long this went on, Harry couldn't tell. At some point, his scar broke open and blood blurred his vision as it ran down his face. Eventually, the darkness unbanned him from the pain and humiliation._

* * *

 **WARNING: Cruciatus Curse, Angst!**

Severus left his dungeons in quite a hurry. The headmaster had floo-called him just five minutes ago and summoned the Potions Master to the office. Dumbledore had sounded really annoyed. Severus knew this state of the man quite well. There was never anything good to be awaited if the headmaster was in such a bad mood. 

Suddenly the castle seemed to be cold. Shivering the young Professor drew his robes tighter around his body. After a quick sprint, Severus arrived at the gargoyles guarding Dumbledore's office. He gave the password and quickly ascended the stairs. There was no point in tardiness since Dumbledore got angrier the longer Severus needed. 

Sighing Severus knocked at the heavy door. Silence met him before the door was blown open by an incredible boost of magic from inside. Swallowing hard the Potions Master stepped inside and was met by the furious glare of Albus Dumbledore. The silver-white beard was tousled, and the bright purple robes were billowing from an invisible force vibrating through the room. 

"You wanted to see me, headmaster," Severus stated in his usual cool tone. He desperately tried suppressing his rising fear of the man in front of him, but he failed as the door behind him closed with a mighty bang and Severus flinched violently. This was ungood. Really not good. The headmaster was furious beyond anything, and Severus was stuck with the old wizard. 

"The boy is weak, Snape!" Dumbledore snarled. "He can't manage the simplest incantations and his 'protego' wouldn't stand against a simple disarming spell!" Dumbledore stepped closer to the dark man. Severus shivered but hid it well. He decided to let the man rant until he was calmed down a bit. 

"Longbottom is not half as powerful as Potter. How could this weak boy defeat anything beyond a bug? Potter could manage a small curse in our sessions without complaining, but Neville-" Dumbledore spat the name into Severus' face – "Cried because of a scratch! He is a pitiful weakling, this boy! A shame for his parents. If they knew their son was such a wimp they would be devastated and totally shamefaced!"

And so on it went and Severus listened to the insults the headmaster bellowed. After twenty minutes the young Potions Master couldn't stand it anymore. That was enough. Alice and Frank would never be ashamed of their boy. Never! They sacrificed their sanity for him as Lily died for Potter. How dare the old man to insult them like this! 

"I think that is enough, headmaster!" Snape barked in his best dungeon-bat tone. "Longbottom might be insecure and clumsy, but that is no reason for such insults. He will learn with time. Maybe you should not scare him like you certainly did! Remember that no one except me knows of your rather unpleasant inclinations. You should..." Severus came no further since a cruciatus curse hit him square in the chest and he found himself thrashing around on the floor in silence. 

"How dare you tell me what to do, Snape? Have you forgotten who I am? You are just a filthy Death Eater who trades his soul to the highest bidder. Remember your place, boy!"

Dumbledore lifted the curse and stared down at the heap of black robes which was Snape. 

"I will train the boy as I see fit. And I will certainly not tolerate such behavior from you! It is just one floo-call to the ministry, and you are on your way to a life in Azkaban, Snape!" 

The office suddenly was very cold. Severus trembled from the aftereffects of the curse as he picked himself up into a sitting position. The young Potions Master knew exactly he had to shut up but this was just too tempting. He sent a wide grin at the headmaster. 

"How do you want to win this war if you need such threads to buy loyalty, headmaster? Perhaps I tell everyone who you really are..." Severus sneered. He regretted his actions rather quickly as a second 'Crucio ' met his ears followed by the unmistakable agony. 

Dumbledore held the curse for several minutes before he lowered his wand and knelt down next to the trembling man on the floor. 

"Never, never again Snape, threaten me. You are replaceable. I don't need a poor, filthy Slytherin-lad to reach my goals." The old wizard whispered and gently shoved the black stays of hair out of Severus' face. 

The young Potions Master looked up in those ice-blue eyes but he couldn't see anything from the lovable grandfather Dumbledore played so well. Dumbledore patted his cheek and rose again. The next moment though Severus hissed in pain and clutched his left forearm. Pushed himself into a sitting position and scrambled to his feet. He had to go. The Dark Lord did not like to wait. 

Before Severus could stagger towards the door, Dumbledore grabbed him and forced his left arm out of the death grip. The young Potions master winced and tried to get away, but Dumbledore grabbed his wrist painfully and shoved the black sleeve up to Severus' elbow. 

The Dark Mark was writhing on the pale skin and with every second it became more prominent. Dumbledore grinned and released Severus' wrist. 

"Run, little dog, your master is calling." He mocked and enjoyed the touch of fear cross the black eyes. Severus turned to leave but before he opened the door he looked back over his shoulder and hissed: 

"He can't be worse than you..." The young Potions Master turned and limped out of the office. The door banged shut and hit him with full force in the back. Severus yelped and struggled for balance but lost the fight and fell down the stairs. On the bottom of it, he felt like being chewed and choked out by Fluffy. 

He picked his battered body up from the ground and hurried to the apparition point. 

* * *

A firm knock on the doors of Voldemort's study sounded through the large room. Smiling satisfied with Snape's rather quick arrival, Voldemort stood from his desk and rounded it. Then he leaned casually against the front edge and crossed his ankles while he supported his weight on his arms on the surface of the desk.

He wore not his usual black robes but tight black leather trousers, boots, and a black dressing shirt. There was no need to scare the man. Snape had always known when to fear his Lord. The Dark robes were more for impressing the newly elected Death Eaters. The inner circle had the privilege to see their Lord in more casual attire. 

The Dark Lord fixed the door with a neutral stare before he called: "Enter!" The next moment the right half of the door swung open to reveal Severus Snape. Clad in his black, billowing robes as always, the perfect still mask drawn over the young face. Without hesitation, Snape stepped into the room and closed the door behind him with a soft click. Then the Potions Master walked towards Voldemort and knelt in front of him, just a few paces away. 

"My Lord." Snape murmured before lowering his head in respect. 

Voldemort remained quiet as he observed his servant. There were wrinkles on the young face. Much too many for a man his age. The black eyes were expressionless as ever. But when Snape had knelt, Voldemort had noticed the slightest of flinches. Now the muscles in Snape's jaw were locked forcefully, and his head was bowed. Voldemort moved from his current position and circled the younger wizard slowly.

Snape's eyes were closed, the long-fingered hands put together behind his back. Every few seconds there was a tiny tremor wracking Snape's body, but the man managed to suppress it nearly perfectly. His breathing was even, his shoulders were completely unrelaxed but the tension in them was not too much. As always, the young man looked perfectly controlled, a skill Voldemort knew to appreciate. 

Voldemort finished the circle around his Potions Master. Now he stood in front of the kneeling man and watched him. Voldemort had just told a few of his inner circle that he was back to full strength. None of them has been allowed to spread the news, so Snape certainly could just tell from his mark that he was somewhere. 

"I am glad to see that you know where your loyalties lie, Severus." The Dark Lord opened the conversation. He was curious to see what Snape had decided. 

"I am delighted that you deem me worthy of your presence, my Lord," Snape answered in a perfectly neutral voice. This made Voldemort smirk. The young man knew not only when to fear something, but he knew how to please his Lord. And from the looks of it, Snape hadn't decided against his Lord. 

"Felicitous as ever, Severus. Stand!" Voldemort waved his hand at the dark man and watched as the Potions Master got up with some trouble. 

"Look at me!" Voldemort commanded softly. He waited until Snape's head rose and leveled the face with an observing gaze. The man looked tired and his features looked like he had aged much more than twelve years. The young thin face with the crooked nose looked somehow worn out. When Snape locked his eyes with the crimson ones of Lord Voldemort he said: 

"My memories are yours, my Lord." Voldemort gave Snape a small smile. A real smile. 

"Drop your shields, Severus." He commanded quietly. As soon as he had said the words, Voldemort entered Snape's mind with a quiet 'legilimens'. He was rapidly sucked into the other's mind. What he saw there was striking. 

It seemed as if Snape had worked on his occlumency over the past few years. The mind looked well organized and Voldemort could see the lowered barriers surrounding different stages on Snape's mind. This was better than Voldemort had dared to hope. When Snape had learned this skill, he had had much difficulty organizing his mind. But it seemed as if the young man had much practice in the past years. 

Voldemort wanted to start his research the very moment as Snape shoved memories towards him. There were ones of his years as Potions Master in Dumbledore's services, memories of students, of Potter, Dumbledore, and other people. Then appeared a memory of Potter's funeral. Snape's despair and sorrow washed over Voldemort and he shivered involuntarily. Voldemort searched through all the memories gently. 

A mind lying so prone in front of a person was very vulnerable after all. There could be done serious damage to the psyche if the intruder was not careful enough. In this case, there was no need to penetrate Snape. The young Professor showed his mind willingly. Therefore, Voldemort was uninclined to use force. That would only destroy the bits of trust in Snape. 

When Voldemort had seen all the memories, he retreated slowly. He just wanted to turn as he stumbled across a hole in Snape's mind. It looked like a black tear in one of the barriers of Snape's inner protection. The wall was still stable but small cracks spread all over it. Voldemort knew this was the result of a forcefully done inspection. Someone had attacked Snape's mind repeatedly without caution.

Voldemort focused on the lacerations in the barrier and was hit with a recent memory. Dumbledore holding Snape under the cruciatus curse mercilessly. Then Snape falling down a set of stairs. 

_"Never, never again, Snape, threaten me. You are replaceable. I don't need a poor, filthy Slytherin-lad to reach my goals."_

This was enough to see for the Dark Lord. He focused on Snape until he felt the conscious presence of the younger wizard. Then he led the man to heal the holes in the barriers to restore the mindscape. Snape had to be struggling with serious headaches for a while because of those injuries in his mind. 

They were far too severe for Snape to cure them himself, even if he had managed to lessen the pain. Luckily, they were not deep enough or in certain areas to drive the Potions Master insane or influence his abilities. When Voldemort was certain that all the inner injuries were healed, he gently retreated from Snape's mind. 

Voldemort found himself back in his study again leaning against his desk. Snape, on the other hand, was on all fours. He panted heavily and was trembling more than before. Voldemort stepped nearer and crouched down next to his servant. The healing must have taken a lot from the Potions Master. 

Slowly he reached out his hand and touched Snape's shoulder. But the younger man flinched violently from the unexpected touch. Ignoring the reaction, Voldemort cast a silent hovering charm while he summoned a chair. Gently he brought the thin man to his feet and directed him to sit in the chair. 

Snape did not fight Voldemort, he simply submitted to the directing magic before he fell into the chair. His breath was going rapidly and his forehead was covered in cold sweat. 

"I appreciate your service over all those years, Severus. As it seems Dumbledore was not as kind as the world thinks he is." Voldemort summoned another chair to sit in front of the young Potions Master. Snape was still trembling, but he seemed to struggle for composure. 

"Th-thank you, my Lord," Snape whispered. For the first time in years, a headache was gone, and Severus sighed in relief. Dumbledore had left those wounds in his mind when Potter had been confronted with Voldemort in first year. The headmaster had been furious that Voldemort could reside inside the school without further noticing. 

He had suspected Severus to plan the events to kill Potter. Since then Severus had tried to heal the lesions in his mind but it had been too difficult. The headmaster was simply a too powerful wizard, and the injuries he had caused were on purpose. Because of that, they couldn't be healed easily. 

"You know I take care of my inner circle, Severus." Voldemort knew his inner circle was the base of his influence. Those people believed in his plans, so Voldemort had to make sure that those wizards and witches remained loyal. He had forged then like hot steel under his reign to form the loyal followers they were now. That was the reason he was much gentler with them. 

He couldn't afford to lose even one of them. And Snape was the best Potions Master in the whole of Europe. The young dark man was a genius in his subject, whilst he was an excellent dueller and a quick thinker. 

Severus nodded and lowered his eyes respectfully. The Dark Lord was totally different from Dumbledore. Both men showed the world a mask opposite to their real self. Interesting. 

"Now, Severus, drop your glamours!" Snape's head shot up. The red eyes pierced through him with an almighty force of knowledge. There was no point in hiding. Voldemort's gaze quickly made Severus let the glamours fall. 

He also stopped his attempts to suppress the after-effects of the cruciatus. Now he sat there in front of his master. He was suddenly disgusted with himself. The first call from the Dark Lord in ages and he was a trembling, pathetic mess. Ashamed Severus lowered his eyes. He closed them tight to prevent the forming tears from falling. 

Voldemort saw Snape's reaction and knew instantly what was wrong.

"There is no need for shame, Severus. Look up and be proud of yourself!" After a few moments, Severus glanced up. Then he brought his mind shields down to cover his feelings enough to listen to the Dark Lord. The man gave him a smile and started healing him. 

Voldemort ran his wand along Snape's body to find the injuries. When he knew all of them, he summoned some healing potions and a potion from Severus' own creation. A potion against the aches and tremors of a cruciatus. He made Snape swallow all of them. Then he began muttering healing spells to increase the effect. 

After about fifteen minutes Voldemort was done. Snape was leaning back in his chair, his head rested on the back of the chair and his eyes were closed. The young Potions Master had dozed off as it seemed. Voldemort allowed himself a satisfied smile. Snape was still on his side. 

And Dumbledore hadn't done anything to change this. As it seemed the old fool didn't know how to win the trust of the young man. That was more than he had hoped.  
Somehow Voldemort had feared that Dumbledore would drive Snape away from him. But with such ruthless methods, there was no way to gain the respect of the young Potions Master. 

Everything the man was looking for was acceptance and respect. And Voldemort was more than ready to provide Snape with those things. The Dark Lord woke Severus after about twenty minutes because originally, he hadn't summoned the man to heal him. Voldemort needed help with the boy. 

"Severus? Wake up!" the Dark Lord hissed quietly. There was no reaction, so Voldemort reached out and brushed his long, pale fingers against Snape's cheek. Immediately, Severus shot up in his chair, slapped Voldemort's hand away and whipped his wand out of his sleeve. The young man frantically searched around for danger, retreating farther back, dragging the chair with him. 

After a few seconds, the black eyes caught sight of The Dark Lord sitting across, his hand still stretched out towards Severus. Understanding dawned on Severus' face and he quickly tucked away his wand. The young man dropped his head in shame. 

"I am sorry, my Lord. I did not mean to..." He blurted out but was stopped by Voldemort. 

"No need to apologize, Severus. I am pleased to see your reflexes are still great." The Dark Lord looked at Snape with an almost warm expression. Then he told Snape to look up. 

"There is a reason why I summoned you tonight, Severus. Since I have forbidden Lucius to tell you, this will be a shock for you." Snape's features were once again sealed by the typical stern mask, hiding his feelings. He looked at Voldemort attentively, eager to hear what the Dark Lord had to say. 

"Harry Potter is alive. He is currently in one of my spare rooms, recovering. Wait until I am finished, Severus!" Voldemort hissed as Snape tried to interrupt. Voldemort's upheld hand silenced him quickly. 

"He is recovering from some cruciatus curses as well as a few cutting hexes. I captured him since he is most valuable to me. He must remain unharmed unless I am the one inflicting injuries on him. He made an attempt to escape. Therefore, he had been punished." 

Snape struggled to prevent his jaw from dropping at this information. That's impossible. They had buried the boy a few days ago. No! Severus felt the tears rising in his eyes and quickly lowered his head to hide them from his master. Voldemort was still talking so Severus forced himself to listen. 

"Sadly, I am not capable of healing him. His scar bursts open as soon as I come near him. For some reason, my presence causes severe headaches which make him lose consciousness. It might be I lost my temper with the boy after his escape attempt. Before that, there were no such problems." Voldemort looked at his Potions Master. 

The younger wizard's head was still lowered, and the black strays of his hair covered his eyes. Voldemort remembered the funeral memory. It seemed as if the Professor needed a reassurance that the boy was indeed alive. Sighing to himself Voldemort continued. 

"Look at me, Severus!" he commanded with a stern edge in his tone. Snape's head whipped up and Voldemort saw the red-rimmed eyes staring at him. 

"I need you to heal the boy. Be careful! Everything you need will be brought by a house-elf. Just ask Cluni. I expect a satisfying result, Severus." With that Voldemort stood and pushed the still shocked Severus towards the door. There the little house elf took Severus' sleeve and led him to the boy. 

Voldemort walked back to his desk and let himself fall into his chair. Severus was trustworthy after all. And his obvious relief over the boy was engine enough to make him fulfill his task. Voldemort grinned and returned to his papers. 

* * *

**I enjoyed writing this chapter immensely. Especially the second part where Lord Voldemort shows his second side. Severus deserved some kindness after what Dumbledore did to our loved Potions Master...**

 **What do you think? Give me a review;-)**


	9. Help

**A/N**

 **Hi you all! Wow Looks like the number of reviews is actually higher when I am updating quicker (*cough* understood that before...)**

 **Enjoy reading and please let me know what you think again!**

* * *

 **Answers to reviews**

 **Enjali: **_Hmmm...would not have been Voldy if he had not overreacted, and if he hadn't placed some security measures around Harry. I am happy for Sev, too. But I fear this will land him in an even bigger mess than he is in right now... let's see (*evil grin*)_

 **Millie072:** _Wow, so many reviews from you! Thanks! Just to clear things up._

 _Second year happened but Voldemort managed to regain his powers during Harry's second year. At the moment only a hand full of his followers know he is back. The ministry or others don't. Dumbledore knows because he forced Sev to show him the mark when it appeared again._

 _The order is suspecting something but they are too blinded by Dumbledore to think further than the headmaster's beard. Second year happened, so Harry is cleared of his 'heir of Slytherin' dilemma._

 _I hope that helps you (and others) a bit. For your questions about how this story will go on... it's a surprise;-)_

 **Gryffindor01:** _great to see you around again! Yep, two in one day and now another one! Things go well:-)_

 **FireSenshi2:** _I love to write Severus, and yes, hugs are something he hasn't gotten much... but he will find kindness and eventually peace, I hope so._

* * *

The small elf led him along a corridor lit by torches flickering on the walls. The carpet on the floor cushioned Severus' steps as he stumbled behind the small creature. How different his two masters were. One of them the loving grandfather on the outside and a monster on the inside while the other showed his gentle side only rarely to a few of his followers. Yes, the Dark Lord did not know complete forgiveness, but he certainly knew how to care for his Death Eaters, especially for those of the inner circle. 

Severus was shaken out of his musings as the elf stopped in front of a door and motioned for Severus to go inside. 

Quickly he collected himself. There was no way he could fulfill his task when being troubled like this. The last thing the Potions Master wanted was to disappoint his Lord in any way after he had been that kind. Severus took a deep breath and turned the doorknob. Carefully he shoved the door open and slid inside. 

As soon as he entered the room, the smell of blood and vomit hit his nostrils. The young Potions Master let his gaze sweep around the room and quickly found a madly shaking, bleeding bundle curled up on the bed. 

Swallowing his emotions and replacing them with professionalism, Severus stepped nearer and sat in the chair next to the bed. 

This was indeed Potter. The boy was shaking violently, and his face was covered in blood. The famous scar looked very sore and small drops of blood seeped out of it. The red on the young face just showed the pale skin even more. The hands clutched the covers forcefully, and Potter's eyes were closed tightly. 

Cautiously, Severus reached out his hand to push the damp hair out of the boy's forehead so he could see the whole damage. As soon as his fingertips brushed against the pale skin, Potter recoiled from the touch and started to whine. 

"It's alright, child. I won't hurt you." Severus said quietly while he looked down at the thirteen-year-old. The Dark Lord didn't exaggerate when he said he lost his temper. This had gone terribly wrong. 

Potter's eyes snapped open and pain-filled green eyes stared at Severus in confusion and fear.

"Professor?" he rasped out. 

"Yes, Potter. Don't worry, we'll fix this." Severus told the boy. He was completely lost. What should he say to the teen? They hadn't been on good terms all the way through the last two years. And now the dungeon-bat sat beside the golden boy. 

"It hurts, Sir," Harry whispered looking at the Potions Master. Somehow it was relieving to see the Professor here. A familiar face was better than nothing. Harry thought to see tears glittering in the obsidian eyes, but he shoved the thought away quickly. Why should Snape care? 

"I know, Potter. Cluni!" Severus called. The small elf popped into existing.

"Bring me general healing potions, the cruciatus cure potions, and bandages. I need water and fever reducer as well. Bruise balm and pain killers would be great, too."

Severus instructed, not looking up from the young boy in front of him. He didn't notice the small elf disappear. The young man was busy, calming the teen. He carefully reached out his hand and caressed the pale cheek, not minding the blood getting on his fingers. 

"You're alive..." Severus whispered his voice thick with tears. The promise he had given Lily was still unbroken. A pop sounded through the room as Cluni came back. The little elf positioned the vials and bandages on the nightstand where Severus could reach them easily. 

The young Potions Master still gently stroked Harry's cheek while he seemed to drown in the emerald orbs.

"I'm so sorry..." Severus choked out. Potter opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something but closed it again without speaking. 

"Does Master Severus need anything else, Sir?" Cluni asked politely. At these words, Severus forced himself back into the present and shook his head. 

"No, Cluni, For the time being, this is enough. Thank you." He said, bringing the usual stern edge back into his tone. Then he removed his cloak and drew his wand. Potter flinched as soon as he saw the wand, but Severus' slow and steady movements calmed the young Gryffindor. It couldn't get worse, could it? 

First of all, Severus held the vial of pain killer to Harry's lips. Then he poured some water down the teen's throat, so the potion could have something to work with. Potter lay still all the time following Severus' every move with his eyes. A deep sigh escaped him as the pain killer took effect. 

A muttered sleeping spell made Harry's eyes droop and finally close. The boy was asleep within seconds and his body relaxed. 

Severus started waving his wand over the boy's body muttering diagnostic spells. A long list of injuries appeared next to Severus' head in the air. It listed all the injuries Potter had ever had. Including the new ones. There were severe damages from the cruciatus curse. 

The curse had been terribly strong. From the force of the muscle contraction and thrashing under the curse, Potter had two broken ribs and a sprained wrist. His right knee was bruised as well as his back and arms. There was a cut on the back of his head. Wounds from the cutting curses littered the thin body and the scar was still daring to break open again. 

This all was accompanied by severe blood loss. When Severus was done with his diagnosing spells, he decided to tackle the worst things first. He spelled more water into Potter's stomach to help the next potion working. Then he added a vial of blood replenishing potion and began cleaning the cuts. Along with that, he cleaned the dried blood off the boy. 

If there were open wounds on the body, there would be no way the cruciatus cure would help. The potion needed a closed environment to take effect since it ran to every single nerve end. 

The Potions Master did his best to heal the cuts and let a huge amount of his magic flow into the teen. His magical core needed some help. After an hour of mending cuts and healing spells, Severus was certain all the potions were effectively running through Potter's system and he could add another potion. 

Severus' hands shook as he grabbed the vial of cruciatus cure with his bloody fingers. When he looked down at the boy, he noticed Potter was breathing steadily, his face was pale but relaxed. That was good because Severus had to mend the broken ribs and the wrist which could be quite painful. Better Potter was unconscious. Severus would love giving him some Dreamless sleep, but the potion would not go well with the cruciatus cure. 

Slowly Severus massaged Potter's throat until the swallowing reflex kicked in. Then the Potions Master began detecting the exact location of the breaks. The spell took some effort since the magic had to flow as gently as possible to not cause further damage but strong enough to run through skin and muscles to find the broken bones. 

Some minutes later Severus felt the trembling still and the tension leaving the young Gryffindor. Now the cruciatus cure had done its job. Severus pointed his wand at the ribs and murmured "episkey". 

With a crack, both ribs were whole again, and the swelling was gone. The wrist was nothing too difficult since a simple healing charm was enough.  
Severus allowed himself to lean back in his chair for a moment. He was quite exhausted. It was the middle of the night after all and his body, though recently healed, longed for sleep. The great amount of magic needed to heal Potter was not helping his condition either. 

The Potions Master sighed and straightened up again. Now came the most difficult part. Healing the scar. Carefully Severus prodded the inflamed skin around the mark. At the very first touch the scar broke open and blood poured out of it. 

Severus quickly waved his wand in a healing spell, but nothing happened. He tried a few more spells with the same outcome. The tiny bit of color Potter's face had gained during the last three hours was gone. Now there was the same pale teenager lying on the bed as before. Severus cursed under his breath and without thinking he pressed his hand against Potter's forehead.

He felt the blood pulsing against his palm while he scolded himself for such an inappropriate method... his hands were far from sterile. But there was no time to dwell on this.

"Cluni!" Severus called out and the house-elf was there a second later. 

"What is it Master S..." She began but was cut off by Severus. 

"Bring me a sterile needle and medical twine, elf!" he bellowed. The small elf disappeared immediately and came back just a few seconds later with the requested items. 

"I need the wound cleaner from the nightstand and the bandages. Now!" he commanded. The blood was still seeping out from under his fingers and slowly Severus began to become desperate. 

He instructed the elf to press the bandages on Potter's forehead while he quickly cleaned his hands and prepared the twine. Then he spelled the sheets, and the boy clean again and sat down. 

"Press the cloth onto the upper half of the scar and help to keep the blood off the scar while I work!" 

"Yes, Master Severus. Cluni will do that." The elf told him and positioned herself above Potter's head where she could reach the scar best. The huge golf ball-like eyes staring down at Severus' hands. 

Severus took a deep breath and began sewing the open scar. This was something which wasn't done often in the magical world since the spells and charms normally were enough to mend wounds. But sometimes a strange poison or curse kept the lacerations open. Doing it the muggle-way was then the only chance to help. 

Severus and Cluni worked in silence. Occasionally a short command or curse from Severus interrupted the quiet room but aside from that, it was silent. 

* * *

Lord Voldemort paced in his study. Snape took way too much time. Surely the boy's injuries could not be that serious. Maybe the Potions Master tried freeing the boy? Voldemort felt the fury rising inside himself. Red Sparks flew out of his hands as he struggled to control his magic. No, Severus would never do that, would he? Not after what he had gone through at the hands of Dumbledore? 

"Nagini!" he hissed in parseltongue to call his familiar. The giant snake slithered out of her hiding place behind a bookshelf. Her green and black scales glowing in the red light from Voldemort's hands. 

"What?" she asked a bit annoyed being shaken out of her sleep. 

"Go and look what Snape is doing with the boy. He should be finished by now." Voldemort hissed back and threw himself into the chair behind his desk. He concentrated on the bond he shared with his familiar. The golden string wound itself from his chest to Nagini's head. He followed the cord until he could unite his vision with the snake's. When he was finished, Nagini turned and slithered down the corridor and through the door to Harry's room. 

It was quiet inside the room. Harry lay on his back with bandages around his head, sleeping under the thick covers. The house-elf was nowhere to be seen but the place looked perfectly clean. Only a few bandages and potion vials stood on the nightstand. 

In the chair next to the bed hung an unconscious Potions Master. His robes were bloody as well as his hands hanging from the armrests. His fingertips nearly touched the floor, and his legs were sprawled out towards the bed. His head rested on his right shoulder and his mouth hung open a bit. Snape was breathing evenly.

For once the deep worry line on his forehead was smoothed out. Now he looked like the thirty-three-year-old he was. Not like a man who had fought too many battles from a young age on. 

Nagini came nearer and investigated Snape's pale face. Voldemort noticed that his black hair was damp from sweat and maybe blood. It lay across the young man's forehead. His eyes had dark blue circles under them.

 _'Let him sleep.'_

His gaze wandered to the child on the bed. What he saw was a terribly pale boy lying limply there as if he was dead. Merely the slow rise and fall of his chest showed the life inside the young body. Voldemort felt his anger rise again. This time it wasn't directed to Harry but himself.

The Dark Lord had let his emotions get the better of him. Now he knew he had gone way too far. Hopefully, the boy could forgive him once he woke up. Where did that come from? 

Nagini felt a tuck at the golden cord connecting her and her master. She turned and slithered back into the Dark Lord's study.

When she arrived there, the Dark Lord brought his vision back to himself and blinked a few times. 

"Cluni!" he called into the room. A moment later the house-elf appeared in front of the massive oak desk. 

"What can Cluni do for Master?" she asked and looked at Voldemort. The wizard rounded the desk and let his red eyes linger on the small elf. 

"Did Severus succeed?" he questioned coolly. 

"As far as I's can tell, Master Severus healed the obvious wounds and the effects of the cruciatus curse, Master. The scar was difficult, and Master Severus had to sew it together by hand. He said: 'It would be the best if the Dark Lord wouldn't come near the boy until we knew the reason for the mess' That he said, Master." Cluni ended. 

"Maybe he is right with that. Apparate him to Lucius'. Leave a note he must go back to Hogwarts. I'll summon him soon!" Lord Voldemort turned around and strode out of his study. Nagini followed him and wound herself around his outstretched arm until she was resting around his neck. 

* * *

Severus opened his eyes and stared at the curtains around and above him. It was dark and quiet around him. The Potions Master closed his eyes again. For just a second he slipped back toward sleep but then he shot up in the bed. This wasn't his bed in Hogwarts! Then the memories of the last night came to the front of his mind. Dumbledore, the Dark Lord, Potter! The boy was alive! 

Hastily the young Professor shoved the curtains out of his way as he scrambled out of the bed. The next moment the door opened, and Severus froze. He didn't know where he was; he had nothing on his body than a silky pajama, his wand was nowhere to be seen. Crouching down beside the bed, Severus waited for the intruder to come. 

Lucius Malfoy ascended the stairs leading to the grand guest room in the west wing of Malfoy Manor. A house-elf had brought Severus Snape to the middle of the Malfoy's bedroom in the early morning hours. 

The Potions Master had been deep asleep. Nothing seemed to reach him in his slumber. Not the shriek from Narcissa at the sight of an elf levitating their friend, not the squeaky voice of the small creature. The elf had announced that the Dark Lord wanted them to house Snape until he had recovered and sent him straight back to Hogwarts. 

Now it was just after dinner, and Lucius had decided to wake his friend. He didn't knock on the door but opened it quietly to not startle the younger wizard.  
It was still dark and silent in the room. With a flick of his wand, Lucius opened the curtains on the windows. The moonlight shone through the high window and lit the room with pale, silvery light. 

If Lucius hadn't known Severus for years he might have been shocked from the picture. The Potions Master crouched next to the bed, ready to jump at anyone who dared to step too near him. 

Malfoy senior waved his wand a second time, and the lights went on.

"Relax, Severus! You're at my home. The Dark Lord commanded an elf to bring you here." the blonde told Snape in a calm, almost bored tone.  
When Severus saw who was in his room, he stood from the floor. Then he looked up at the older Malfoy. 

"How long have I been here?" he questioned briskly. He raised an eyebrow to stress his words. 

Lucius smiled a bit as he leaned on his cane. "You are here since about 4 am. Now it is half-past eight in the evening. We let you sleep. The elf told us you could need the rest, my friend." 

Severus grunted something under his breath, then he stepped closer to Lucius.

"Where is my wand?" He asked in an almost deadly tone. Normally his wand was tucked away in his robes and within his reach at any time. 

"Calm down, tiger." Lucius mocked. "Your wand is in the nightstand-drawer." With that, the blonde aristocrat summoned the thin black wand and gave it to the Potions Master.

"Thanks," Snape muttered. He gripped his wand tightly and enjoyed the familiar rush of magic. 

"Next. Where are my clothes, Lucius? I must be on my way to Hogwarts as soon as possible. The headmaster is going to grill me if I am that late."  
'He will do that even if I don't hurry. Probably he's cursing the devil out of hell by now to feed me to the beast when I come back...' Severus thought as he waited for the answer. 

"They are down with the elves. They were soaked with blood and sweat...disgusting really." Lucius sent him a small grin and clapped him on the shoulder."They should be clean by now. Oggy!" the blonde called out for the elf who popped into the room just seconds later, the clean black robes in hand. 

"You see, Severus? Here they are." The Potions Master scoffed while he took his robes from the elf. Frankly, they felt a lot cleaner than last night. And softer than they normally did after Severus had washed them. Perhaps he should ask Lucius what his elves used for cleaning clothes? 

"No need to thank me, my friend." Lucius laughed as he saw the sour look on Snape's face. "Come down to the dining room! You need at least a scrap of food in your stomach." Without waiting for Snape's response, the Malfoy patriarch stalked out of the room and disappeared down the stairs. 

Severus on stayed behind and got dressed. As it seemed he had to go downstairs. It would have been more comfortable to apparate straight to the school, but it really didn't matter if he spent another hour here or not. 

* * *

**Alright, folks! Did you like it?**

 **If you want, check out my other stories. I am looking forward to seeing you leave a review there, too. Yes, I am kind of greedy for those;-)**


	10. Light and Dark 10 - Theory behind spells

**_A/N_**

 _Hello you all. Are you still around? I know there was nothing for a long time. But here is a new chapter. I just got it done. There are some mistakes in there for sure...it wasn't really looked over. I hope you enjoy reading anyway:-)_

 _Reviews:_

 _ **Millie072:** Again thanks for your reviews! What our Lord Voldemort has in mind for Harry and Severus...I can't tell you. But if you want to guess, I will tell you how near you came?_

 _ **CWY reader:** I am doing my best to get more chapters on_

 _ **Enjali:** Who knows...perhaps Voldemort is human somewhere deep inside? Harry is confused, scared and alone.. and a hug is a hug isn't it? We'll see..._

 _ **Gryffindor01:** You are definitely not putting pressure on me by reviewing! I love to read what you think of my ideas! So please continue!_

* * *

Neville sat in the library. It was quite early in the morning, but he just had to get the stuff into his head. The headmaster had assigned him to read two heavy books on defensive spells. This was impossible! 'How am I supposed to keep up with my classwork if Dumbledore throws work at me like this?' It was terrible. Neville was still behind with his potions essay and it was due to this afternoon. Snape would kill him if that stupid text wasn't finished. 

But at the moment Neville was much more concerned with what the headmaster would say if Neville wasn't able to explain the spells and jinxes in the books by this evening. Those evening lessons were going on now for two weeks. Every evening the headmaster threw stunners and curses at Neville for about an hour until he gave up. His shield charm was still not strong enough to block a simple stunner. 

Every time Neville was thrown back against the wall in Dumbledore's office; the old wizard just shot him that disappointed look. Neville never knew what hurt more. The pure disappointment or the pain erupting in his back when he hit the wall. 

'How did Harry do all this?' Neville mused as he continued practicing wand movements and incantations. Yes, he had become better with his wand but still, his strength was Herbology. Something he could do with his hands. Not the spells that required fast reaction.

When some students finally filed into the library to quickly finish their homework, Neville gave up. The Potions essay would have to wait until the free period between charms and herbology. At least in the latter one, Neville could improvise without being caught. 

When the Gryffindor arrived at the Great Hall, he let himself fall in his usual seat next to Ron and Hermione. Both were still down because of Harry... like everyone in Gryffindor. Ginny had red-rimmed eyes as usual. Hermione and Ron looked like they hadn't gotten much sleep again. They often sat together in the common room and talked or just stared into the flames. Neville was terribly sad too, but he was just too busy all day with the additional work for Dumbledore that he fell into his bed like a stone every night. 

Listlessly, Neville bit into a piece of toast and chewed on it. While he ate, he shot weary glances up at the head table where Dumbledore was happily chatting with Professor Sprout. 'Maybe I could just tell him I couldn't finish his assigned reading?' The boy thought. Before he could think much more about it, the post-owls arrived. Two of them swooped down in front of him. A brown owl knocked over Neville's pumpkin juice. Instantly he was covered in the sticky liquid. 

Annoyed, Neville brought out his wand and muttered a cleaning spell at his robes. As usual, he just managed to vanish half of the mess. He sighed and turned his attention back at the two owls. They got more and angrier and held their legs out to him. 

Neville loosened the envelopes from the owls. As soon as they were freed from their duty, the two flew out of the Great Hall. 

Neville opened the first letter. It was from his Grandmother. 

_Dear Neville,_  
 _The headmaster told me about everything but asked me to keep it a secret. I just wanted to tell you that I am very proud of you deciding to fight. I assure you your parents would be proud too. Study hard, Neville! I always knew you were something special._  
 _Regards,_  
 _Gran._

Neville put the letter down. Yeah, now he was something special. Now she was 'Gran'. Neville had never been allowed to call her anything other than Augusta since 'gran' made her feel old as she said. 

Neville loved his grandmother but somehow it annoyed him that now where he was about to risk his life, she changed. A bit sad about it he grabbed the second letter. The purple ink and the spidery handwriting made his insides freeze. The letter was from Dumbledore.

What could the headmaster possibly want from him? They had a lesson this evening. 

Neville's hands shook slightly as he opened the envelope and drew out the paper. 

_Good morning, Mr. Longbottom._  
 _I expect you to come to my office in your free period. This evening we are to take your lesson to the forbidden forest. Due to this fact, I want to check on your progress regarding your shield charm and your stunning hexes._  
 _Be on time!_  
 _Headmaster Dumbledore_

Neville stared at the note. The thoughts were racing through his mind, but he couldn't grasp and comprehend them. A big lump formed in his throat and suddenly he felt a bit nauseous. Not only was his potions essay once and for all unfinished but he was still unable to hold his shield strong enough to block a stunner. The headmaster would be furious because of that. It had been two weeks since he first tried it and nothing had changed.

A few days ago, Neville had contemplated asking Professor McGonagall for help. After the transfiguration lesson, he suddenly had felt his courage waver. He thought about the headmaster and how he would certainly not approve it when he heard from the Gryffindor head-of-house, that Neville had been asking someone else for help. 

Now Neville felt despair rising inside himself. The Gryffindor jumped a bit as he heard Ron talk to him from his side. 

"Hey, mate. You're alright?" The red-head asked. Neville looked up and quickly stuffed both letters into his robe pocket. 

"Yeah. Sure." He said with a small smile."I was just thinking about potions...you know Snape." Neville trailed off as he saw the understanding looks from Ron and Hermione.  
"You're right. That essay was a hell of research work." Ron laughed but stopped as soon as Hermione elbowed him in the side. 

"Oh, Ronald! Would you shut up? You just had to read one or maybe two additional books. We had long enough for it." The girl told them. Then she turned her gaze at Neville.  
"Don't worry. Professor Snape will appreciate your work. Maybe you could show him in class that you understand the potion. We are to brew it today after all." 

The forced smile slipped from Neville's face. He had completely forgotten about that. Hermione saw his reaction and jumped in. 

"If you want, we could pair up today?" she asked and looked at Ron purposefully. 

Ron understood quickly and added: "Oh! Yes, no problem, Neville. I'll go with Seamus instead." 

Neville looked at the two of them. His smile returned but this time it was actually real. This moment he recognized those two were the ones who had held Harry up all the time. Since they knew about the additional lessons with Dumbledore, they did much to help him. 

"Thanks, you two," Neville said firmly. "That would be great. I will just go get my books from the dorm then." 

With that, he waved at his classmates and fled from the hall. 

* * *

History of Magic was boring as always but Neville at least managed to finish his potions essay. It was finished but probably not satisfying for Snape. Neville was slumped over one of the spellbooks Dumbledore had given him. In there he had found a good explanation for shield charms. Maybe he could do them later with that? Professor Binns talked about a particular boring goblin war but Neville was even too engrossed in his reading that he didn't even hear the bell at the end of the lesson. 

He noticed just in time to get up and head to charms. Just one hour until the meeting with the headmaster. With every minute gone, Neville got more nervous. All the time he tried reading his book under the table. A few times his face brightened up as the Young Gryffindor suddenly understood something. Flitwick might have seen him reading something else but today's topic but let it go. 

At the end of the lesson, Neville was nervous but confident he could manage a stronger shield today. On his way to Dumbledore's office, he practiced his wand movements and incantations a few last times. Much too soon he knocked at the oak door. 

A smooth 'enter' called him in and Neville took a deep breath before he pushed the door open.

Dumbledore sat behind his desk and stared at him with those blue eyes. 

"Hello, Professor." Neville greeted politely. Dumbledore hated disrespect in any occurrence. That much Neville knew from their lessons so far. 

Dumbledore stood from his seat and walked around the desk to stand in front of Neville.

"Good to see you are punctual, Mr. Longbottom." He said with a smile on his face.

There was the twinkling grandpa Neville liked so much. The boy smiled too but it slipped from his face as soon as he saw Dumbledore draw his wand. 

Neville hastened to bring up his own wand, but he couldn't get it out of his inner robe pocket since his bag strip prevented him from reaching into his pocket.

Panicking he threw his bag to the ground and whipped out his wand. Then he stared at the headmaster just in time to see a red jet of light racing towards him. Neville began conjuring his shield but was hit by the stunner before he could finish. The Gryffindor was blasted backward and landed on the floor, hard. 

"Your reflexes are still atrocious, Longbottom." The headmaster said with a cold voice. He stepped nearer to his student, who scrambled to his feet quickly. 

Neville brought his wand up again and smoothed out his robes. "You surprised me, Professor." He murmured more to himself as to the headmaster. But the old wizard had heard it, nevertheless. Suddenly his well-hidden disappointment changed to cold fury and he fixed Neville with an icy stare. 

"Do you really think attacks are something to be warned of? Do you think any Death Eater would shout at you to duck before he fires a curse? Are you just stupid or do you not want to understand the seriousness of the topic, Mr. Longbottom?" he said with barely suppressed anger. 

Neville gulped nervously and shook his head no before he remembered to give a verbal answer. "No, Sir. I understand it. I'm sorry. Could we try again? Sir?" he asked meekly. 

Dumbledore huffed but stepped back a bit. "Alright, Longbottom. Show me your shield. I hope for you that you are able to hold it up," he answered. Then he folded his arms in front of his chest, the wand still in his hand. 

'I can do this!" Neville told himself and brought his feet shoulder-wide apart for a defensive stand. Then he took a deep breath and concentrated. 

The next moment he hollered a strong 'Protego' and waved his wand in Dumbledore's direction. Nearly instantly a blue shimmering, round shield erupted from his wand tip. The shield was about the size of an umbrella, and the rim was bent towards Neville. A proud grin spread in Neville's face. This shield had a much darker shade of blue than the ones he had conjured until now.

"Hold it! And concentrate, Longbottom!" Dumbledore barked. Immediately the young Gryffindor gripped his wand tighter and concentrated on his shield. He felt his magic flow into the shield. It was an incredibly good feeling. Suddenly he felt really protected behind the blue orb. 

Dumbledore, on the other hand, did not seem impressed in the slightest. He began wandering back and forth in front of his student. Then he began his lecture. 

"Some curses and spells are quicker than others. Normally it depends on the caster's power and his determination how quick the curse flies. But most darker curses and spells travel much faster than the light ones." 

Neville grid his teeth. The upholding of the charm began to be straining. But Dumbledore had not allowed lowering the shield. Neville tried desperately to listen to the headmaster, but he was not in the least prepared for the stunner hitting his shield full force. 

Neville stumbled a step back but to his astonishment, the shield absorbed the red jet of light. Surprised he looked at the headmaster but found only a mere twitching of his mouth. 

"Keep it up, Mr. Longbottom!" he commanded before he continued his lecture.

"As I said: Dark Curses are faster because they are meant to hit their target in a destructive way. Most of the time they do. Therefore, dark spells are more difficult to stop. Sometimes it is necessary to move your shield to encounter an attack. Just move your wand and concentrate on meeting the hostile spell!" 

Without a warning, Dumbledore shot a jelly-leg-curse at Neville. The Gryffindor tried hard to meet the spell mid-air and succeeded to his utter astonishment. This was the second time he managed to block an attack! 

The silver-haired wizard nodded in approval and Neville beamed with pride. Maybe he was not totally useless! Maybe he could do this! 

Somehow Neville's pride and delight flowed into the shield and made it even a few shaded darker. Again, Dumbledore nodded. 

"Emotions can fuel a charm. Happiness, pride, and love are very strong in that matter. But also, emotions like hate, anger, fear or despair are able to strengthen a spell." the headmaster said. The dunderhead seemed to have understood finally. Dumbledore contemplated his further ongoing. Then he spoke again. The atmosphere in the office suddenly got dark, the lights dimmed, and it got cold. 

Neville looked around startled, but he held up his shield. With every second his arms got heavier and his magic seemed to flow slowly into the shield. Suddenly an evil grin spread across Dumbledore's face. 

"Let's see how strong your shield really is, Mr. Longbottom," he said in a low voice. The next moment a jet of red light shot from Dumbledore's wand. Neville saw it come nearer and nearer very fast. This was nothing like the jelly-leg curse or the stunner from earlier. 

Desperately, Neville tried to strengthen his shield with emotions but the shield stayed at its dodger-blue shade. The red jet of light came nearer and nearer. For Neville, it seemed like minutes while in reality the curse just needed a part of a second to reach the blue orb and break through it. 

Neville was blasted from his feet as the sheer force of the curse hit his shield and shortly after, Neville's chest. The next moment Neville thrashed around on the floor and screamed in pure agony. Somewhere in his mind, he recognized what the curse was but his mind was busy trying to process all the pain each and every nerve sent to his brain. 

Neville's vision darkened at the sides and he could not stop screaming. Just before he passed out the pain stopped abruptly. There was nothing left than a dull ache all over his body. Neville felt tears stinging in his eyes, but he blinked them away angrily. Harry had never looked like he had cried when he came back from Dumbledore! It was this moment when Neville swore to himself he would do this. Without complaining, with the biggest effort. For Harry. 

Shaking all over Neville scrambled to his feet. His legs felt weak like they had been hit by a jelly-leg curse. His whole body was shaking, and he had to blink a few times to clear his vision. 

Dumbledore smirked at the boy on the ground. Now the lad had been confronted with the cruciatus for the first time. Pathetic as he was, he was close to crying. Dumbledore rolled his eyes and tucked his wand away. 

When he looked up again, he was taken aback. Neville Longbottom was back on his feet, trembling but with determination in his eyes. The wand shook in his hand, but the boy had a firm grip on it. 

Dumbledore caught himself quickly. He sneered at Neville and said: "It seems like a warrior was just born." With that, he turned around and sat at his desk again.  
"Let's cancel our lesson this night. You might need some rest." the headmaster grinned at the Gryffindor and began shuffling pages on his desk. 

Neville still was busy holding himself upright. But the quiet 'dismissed' from Dumbledore made him stumble for the door. He fled, his bag dangling from his shoulder and his wand still in hand. A few minutes later he reached the lavatory and slumped down along the wall. He was still trembling so hard; he could barely hold his wand. 

A quick tempus told him that he had five minutes to get to Herbology. Neville contemplated skipping the lesson for a second but decided Dumbledore would certainly be unhappy with that. He picked himself up from the floor and hurried to the greenhouses. 

* * *

Harry groaned when he woke up. It was bright in his room. The sunlight burned in his eyes as soon as he opened them only a tiny bit. Then there was still a murderous headache. The rest of his body felt almost normal. Just a bit weak. Harry raised his right arm and covered his eyes with it. Slowly he increased the crack until his eyes were comfortable enough with the light to look around. He was back in the new room.

Harry's gaze fell on the window, which he had tried to jump out. He groaned again and closed his eyes as he remembered his encounter with Voldemort in the study. The stupid bastard. 

Harry sat up slowly and rubbed his eyes. His hands found the bandage around his forehead and Harry remembered his bleeding scar. A quiet hiss from the right made Harry look up. 

"The boy is awake finally." A low voice said. Harry grabbed his glasses from the side table and looked around for the source of the voice. It did not take long to spot the giant snake at the foot of his bed. The creature looked at him with her dark eyes, the red tongue slithered out of her mouth from time to time. 

"Um...yeah." Harry answered. It was not his favourite sight after waking up. "What are you doing here?" he asked the snake and without noticing he slipped into parsel. 

* * *

**Just a little bit of Harry at the end. What do you think about Dumbledore and Neville?**

 **And how do you think Harry and Nagini will get along?**

 **Please review and let me know!**


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